


A Veteran’s Christmas

by Wargurl83



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Destiel LifeMark Bang 2020 (Supernatural), Gabe's a Dog, M/M, Military Veteran Dean Winchester, Misunderstandings, Pining, Teacher Castiel (Supernatural), a really cute dog, military situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28642140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wargurl83/pseuds/Wargurl83
Summary: Honorably discharged from the Marines, Captain Dean Winchester is on his way to Cincinnati when he falls asleep and crashes the Impala right outside River’s Crossing. Castiel Novak offers Dean the use of his guesthouse for as long as it takes to get the Impala fixed. As Dean spends time with Cas and the town, he finds himself falling in love. But will Cas’ ex keep Dean from what he really wants?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 21
Kudos: 77
Collections: Destiel LifeMark Bang





	1. Chapter 1

For those who don’t know me, I’m a US Army Veteran. I served for four years, and most of that time, I got stationed in Korea. While I served, I was an Animal Care Specialist, or MOS 91T, and worked closely with the MWD’s and their handlers as a part of my mission, along with my fellow Tangos.

The movie this is based on caught my eye, even though I’ve never seen it (and probably won’t, to be honest) because there is a working dog in it. I felt that it is appropriate for me to do this as my inaugural Destiel LifeMark Bang story for… a lot of reasons.

This _is_ a work of fiction, though I have done my best to keep the military parts as close to real as possible.

For those who are not military lingo savvy, the last chapter is a glossary and notes page.

I am dedicating this story to all my brothers and sisters in uniform. RIP Joseph Urzua. You’re still my boy, blue.

For Joey.


	2. Bodhi Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Also known as the Day of Enlightenment, celebrating the day that the historical Buddha experienced enlightenment_

“Buddy, I have no idea how you’re handling the cold here with your short-ass fur. I mean, I’m from Kansas, and it gets cold as hell there, even snows in the winter sometimes, but it’s fuckin’ frigid here in the desert! I thought deserts were supposed to be hot!”

Captain Dean Winchester’s partner doesn’t answer, too intent on his job.

“Yeah, prolly shouldn’t complain, huh? There’s worse things, after all.” He shields his eyes and scans the Afghan desert landscape. Yep, still a bunch of sand.

A soft _woof_ from beside him catches his attention, and he looks down to see his partner, Uurzua W597—K9, bomb dog, Belgian Malinois, and his best friend in this God-forsaken place—sitting down on the edge of the road. He’s alerted on something, and Dean throws up his fist in the _stop_ signal for the convoy following him. He hears the creak of the brakes and calls Uurzua back.

“Good boy, come here,” Dean says after he plants a flag next to where Uurzua alerted. The dog’s tail is motoring a mile-a-minute, waiting for Dean to produce the reason he does this job.

His red Kong.

Dean chuckles and dangles the Kong-on-a-rope in front of him, letting Uurzua yank him around to his heart’s content.

“Captain? What did Zuzu find?” the muffled voice of Benny Lafitte asks.

“Not sure. Flag’s there, so probably an IED.” He motions toward the flag, knowing full well how hard it is to see in the outfit EOD has to wear. Benny gives him a thumbs up when he catches sight of the bright orange flag, and Dean retreats to the lead Humvee to wait for the Sergeant to do his thing.

Dean’s leaning against the Humvee, chatting with Tran and scanning his side of the road when Uurzua starts going _ballistic_. Dean’s just about to reach down and pat the dog on the head to get his attention when he hears the whine-

Then the sound of ripping and cutting metal-

Then a dull _boom_ and Uurzua’s barking-

Then he feels the blast-

Then it’s silent, and Dean blinks up at the sky, trying to figure out how he got in this position. Uurzua is licking his face and, ew, but he’s glad his buddy is OK. But then he thinks, _oh shit, what about the rest of the team_?

Dean groans, not that he can hear it, as he sits up, pushing Zuzu away from his face. He looks around, taking in the fireball that used to be the last Humvee in the convoy. He blinks and sees Benny being covered by someone as they make their way back to the lead vehicle. When he blinks again, Tran is in front of him. He can see the kid’s mouth moving, but all he can hear now is a ringing in his ears, so he shakes his head.

Tran points to Zuzu and makes a _come-on_ gesture at Dean, so he figures he should try to get up so they can get outta here before something else blows up. Tran grabs the arm that isn’t tangled up in his dog’s leash and hauls him to his feet. The world spins a little, but the kid gets under Dean’s arm and steadies him on the way to the Humvee.

It’s a fight to stuff Dean and Zuzu into the already cramped space, but they make do. Dean ends up with a lap full of dog as they get turned around and head back to the base.

The medics descend on the convoy as soon as they are close enough. Dean waves them off, pointing at Zuzu and searching out the Tango that he knows is hanging out at the edges. He can’t remember her name right now, but she’s a pair of helpful hands when it comes to human patients, so he _knows_ she’s around here somewhere.

She eventually finds him. She checks Zuzu over, gives Dean a thumbs up, then shoves Dean down into a chair so she can look _him_ over. He grins sheepishly at her glare when she realizes he can't hear her. She rolls her eyes and snatches up an empty chart sheet.

_Pretty sure you have a concussion, not to mention the ears. You been to the medics yet?_

Dean shakes his head and points to Zuzu.

She looks down—Jo! That’s her name, Jo Harvelle—and scribbles some more. _He’s fine. Little wobbly thanks to minor hearing loss, but it should clear up. He must have been on the other side of you from the blast?_

Dean nods and leans down to hug the dog and bury his nose in Zuzu’s fur. A tap on his shoulder draws his attention back to Jo.

 _You need to go to the medic tent. NOW._ The now is underlined twice, and that paired with her glare tells Dean she’s serious enough to march him there herself. He discovered that vet techs didn’t give a shit about rank a long time ago.

He nods and signs a _thank you_ , the only thing he remembers from talking with his little brother’s wife at the moment.

Her eyes twinkle as she signs _you’re welcome,_ then flaps her hands at him, chasing him out of the clinic tent.

NIHL. Noise-induced hearing loss.

Dean grumbles to himself as he rolls over in his cot. He’s gained most of his hearing back in the last few days, but the ringing just won’t _quit,_ and thanks to that, he can’t sleep.

Zuzu looks up at the cot's creaking, then heaves himself out of the nest of blankets and over to Dean. He lays his head down on Dean’s chest and blinks at him.

“Dude, you could give Sammy a lesson in puppy eyes, and he’s the best I’ve ever seen.”

Zuzu’s response is to wag his tail and huff at him.

Dean rolls his eyes and shifts over on the cot before patting his chest. “OK, get up here, you goofball.” The dog squirms his way onto the cot, over Dean’s legs (missing his nuts, thank God), and stretches out along Dean’s left side with a sigh. Zuzu plops his head down on Dean’s chest again and blinks at him sleepily.

Dean rubs the fur between his eyes gently, and soon, Zuzu is off in dreamland.

Dean stares at the ceiling for a while, thinking. He knows this is it for him. Hearing loss in an MP, let alone a dog handler, is a death knell for his military career. From here, he’ll be medically discharged and sent home to start over as a civilian.

“Guess I should call Sammy, huh?” he asks the sleeping dog. He knows, without a doubt, that Sam will be happy to see him. Hell, they haven’t seen each other in person since Sam’s wedding to Eileen three years ago. It’ll be good to see the kid and his kick-ass wife again.

With that thought firmly in his mind, he drags a blanket over the two of them and passes out.

When the Marines want something done, they do it quickly. Dean’s handing Uurzua’s leash into the Kennel Master on base, saying his good-byes to the six-year-old overgrown puppy, and reporting to Colonel Henriksen’s office for his walking papers within a week of his diagnosis.

Henriksen stands when Dean knocks on the door frame. “At ease,” he says to Dean’s salute. “Sit down, Captain.”

Dean takes the seat in front of Henriksen’s desk, trying not to fidget and feeling like he’s been called to the principal’s office in high school all over again.

Henriksen takes his seat. He puts his glasses on and reads the paperwork, then looks at Dean. “Well, Marine, this sucks.”

Dean’s so startled at the Colonel’s use of language, he laughs. Henriksen’s face breaks into a grin, and he takes off his glasses, tossing them onto his desk.

“That’s better,” he says. “NIHL, huh?”

Dean snorts. “Yeah. Yes sir. And you’re right; it does suck. I have no idea what I’m gonna do now.”

“Well, at the risk of sounding like an ass, I reckon you’ll figure it out, Winchester. Let's get this formal shit out of the way and get you out of this overgrown litter box, huh?”

They go over everything—including any potential medals the Colonel will be putting Dean in for—before Henriksen hands over a stack of papers.

“This is everything. Technically, you’re still on active duty until you get to the states and finish out-processing, so stay in uniform until then. You got someone meeting you in North Carolina?”

“Just my car, sir. She’s all I need right now, anyway, after I clear out my barracks room.”

“Do you at least know where you are heading to, after?” Henriksen asks as they start walking to his door.

“Yeah. I’m gonna drive to Cincinnati, hook up with my brother and his wife. Crash with them for a while.”

Henriksen slaps a hand on his shoulder. “Get some cold-weather gear before you head out, then. You think it’s bad here? It’s already snowing and cold as hell up there this time of year.” It feels like the last order he’ll ever get, and Dean’s throat closes.

“You got it, sir.”

After a final salute, Dean’s walking out the door and headed to the C130 that’s going to take him home.

Dean just barely keeps himself from falling to his knees and kissing the floor of the airport. All those years in the Marines never did manage to cure his fear of flying.

“Winchester?”

Dean blinks at the scrawny dude in front of him. “Fitzgerald!”

Garth grins and throws his arms around Dean, gear and all. “Damn, Cap, it’s good to see you!”

Dean hugs the corporal. “Good to be seen. Let's get the rest of my crap and get outta here, though.”

“Still hate flying?” Garth asks as he takes control of Dean’s carry-on.

“Flying tin cans of death, man.” Dean shudders. “I’d rather drive than fly, thanks. If humans were supposed to fly, we’d have wings.”

“Or parachutes,” Garth grins at him.

Dean shudders again. “I still don’t know how you jump _out_ of those flying death traps.” They bicker all the way to the luggage carousel and out to the garage where Garth is parked.

“So Command wasn’t too forthcoming about you being back so soon. What gives?” Garth asks as they pile into his pickup truck.

Dean points at his ear. “RPG without any hearing protection.”

Garth whistles as he starts the truck and backs out of his spot. “Do ya know if it’s permanent or not?”

Dean shrugs. “Probably. The reading I did makes it seem so, anyway.”

“They discharge ya already?”

“Yup.” Dean pats his breast pocket. “Discharge orders are here in my pocket, and I’ve got copies in my carry-on.”

“Damn, son. Well, you want some good news?”

“You got some for me?”

Garth points at the visor above Dean’s head. “Lookie there.”

Dean flips the visor down and fumbles at the keys that fall out. He can feel the smile stretch across his face at the sight of these keys. “How’d she treat ya while I was gone?”

“Like a dream, man. I totally understand why you love that car so much.”

They chat back and forth about as little as possible, catching each other up on the gossip. Dean puts up with the salutes from the MP’s at the gates and then, finally, Garth’s stopping in front of the officer housing.

“Well. Don’t be a stranger, ya hear?” Garth says as he pulls Dean into another rib-crushing hug.

“You got it, man. Now get outta here so I can start out-processing.” A last slap on the back, and Garth steps away, leaving Dean to haul his crap to his room and figure out what needs to go back to supply.

The next two weeks involve more paperwork than he ever wants to look at again (seriously, there’s more paperwork to be discharged from the Marines than there was to _join_ ). When he’s not dealing with paperwork, he’s running around base returning shit and making entirely too many trips to the store for boxes and tape. The Marines are going to ship the majority of his shit to Sam’s for him, thank fuck, but he still wants to pack it so he can make sure nothing goes missing.

He’s a paranoid motherfucker. Sue him.

By the time he’s finished out-processing, Dean’s ready to leave all this shit behind him.

Most of it, anyway.

He’s got Baby, his ‘67 Impala, packed to the gills with his important shit and one last box of gear he has to return. The kennels are on the other side of the base from the gate he’ll leave through, but he needs to say goodbye to the dogs. And return Zuzu’s gear.

Dean parks the car and waves to the guy on the training field, right before he gets pulled down by a flying fur missile. Dean laughs, then ducks into the passenger side, drags the box out, and heads inside.

“Winchester! Aren’t you supposed to be gone?” Major Galloway stands up and greets Dean at his office door.

“On my way out after this, sir. I just wanted to drop off this last little bit,” Dean says, lifting the box.

“Well, let’s see what we got,” Galloway says as Dean sets the box down on a table. “Leash, collar, Kong- Winchester, is this Uurzua’s stuff?”

“Not officially. I bought it when I first became Zuzu’s handler, so I figured…” he trails off with a shrug. “Just figured that when he comes back, his new handler can use it with him, too. A dog can never have enough Kongs to play with.”

“Winchester. Dean, look at me, son.” Dean looks up to see the Major’s eyes soft in sympathy. “Keep it. Remember him, all of them. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll be able to use it again.”

Dean scoffs. “Yeah, like they’d adopt a kick-ass working dog out to someone like me. I don’t even have a place to live yet.”

“Hey,” Galloway backhands his shoulder. “I’ve seen stranger things. Keep it. You never know, son.” He straightens and holds out his hand. “Good luck, Marine.”

Dean grasps the Major’s hand. “Thank you, sir. Keep me in the loop with him, will you?”

“You got it.”

White. Everything is white. And Dean’s ears are ringing again. Mother _fucker_.

Dean sits up and groans, rubbing his head. He looks around, taking stock of his situation. It’s dark, and everything outside is blanketed in white. Something swinging just out of eyeshot catches his attention, and he reaches a hand out to stop it. It’s Uurzua’s collar, hanging on the rearview mirror.

He blinks again, and more comes into focus. His car is sitting in a snowbank, which explains why everything’s white.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans, letting his head fall back on the headrest. He hisses from the pain and blinks the blurriness out of his vision. Might as well get out and inspect the damage.

He drags his coat on, grateful he listened to Henriksen’s advice, and clambers out of the car. He stumbles to the front grill and leans over.

“Aww, Baby.” Her headlights are busted, the grill is cracked, and her bumper and hood are crumpled slightly from the tree that stopped their forward motion.

She’s not going anywhere under her own power tonight, not without working lights.

“God damn it,” Dean swears out loud, his words echoing back to him from the trees. He fights his way back through the snow to the driver’s seat and collapses inside, fumbling for his phone.

No signal. Go fucking figure.

Dean growls to himself as he grabs Zuzu’s collar and a duffel bag full of clothes; God bless old habits. He climbs out of the Impala, making sure she’s locked up. He slings the duffel over his shoulder and Zuzu’s collar into his pocket, briefly wishes he had gloves or a scarf, then heads down the road in the direction he’d been walking before he decided to make friends with a snowbank.

After twenty minutes of walking, Dean wishes for a _lot_ of things, all of them warm. A bark grabs his attention, and he looks up to see a _Welcome to River’s Crossing_ sign with a black and white pit bull-lookin’ dog standing next to it. The dog’s green-and-red sweater covered body is wiggling from the force of its tail, and it seems to be happy to see Dean.

Dean snorts a laugh. “Well, hello there. Happy to meet you.”

The dog bounds over to Dean, sniffing along his legs, and after deeming him acceptable, shoves its big blocky head into Dean’s hand, demanding pets. Dean obliges as he looks around.

River’s Crossing looks to be a small mountain town, typical of this part of Ohio. It’s actually pretty cute, for what Dean assumes is a podunk town. He wonders if it used to be a coal town.

The dog whines at him, tugging on his hand. Dean blinks down at it. “What?”

The dog tugs on his sleeve then drops it and trots off a few steps. It looks over its shoulder as if to say, _you coming or what_?

Dean shrugs. “Eh, might as well. Not like I can go anywhere else.” He follows the dog down what looks to be the main drag, taking in the different stores and such.

The dog takes a right and trots up the street to a large house at the end of the cul-de-sac. The house is a quirky two-story building that has a beautiful front porch. The dog barrels up the four steps and scratches on the door, barking and whining.

The door flings open, startling Dean, and a tall, dark-haired man steps out. “Gabriel! There you are, you tricky thing. I swear, I should have named you Houdini. Come on; let's get you inside. It’s freezing out here.” The man turns to go inside, but Gabriel barks and darts off the front step, back towards Dean.

“Gabe, what are you- oh. Hello.”

Dean wiggles his fingers at the man. “Hey, uh. Sorry. He seemed like he knew where he was going. My car is in a snowbank about a mile or so outside of town.” He trails off when the man squints at him, head tilted.

“You… followed my dog?”

Dean shrugs.

The man shakes himself and steps forward. “Forgive me, where are my manners? Come in. My name is Castiel Novak.”

“Captain Winchester. Er, Dean. Thanks, man.” Dean steps past Castiel into the hallway, then notices he’s _caked_ with snow. “Uh, is there somewhere I can leave my boots so they don’t melt all over the place?”

“Oh! Yes, yes. Take your boots off and just roll your jeans up so that the snow doesn’t fall off, and then follow me, please.”

Dean does as he’s bid, carrying his boots as he follows Castiel down the hallway into the kitchen. He points to a closed door.

“That’s the laundry room; I’ve got a tray in there you can leave your boots on, that’ll keep the water from going everywhere.” He points to another door, “And that’s a powder room you can use to change out of your wet jeans. Do you need something to change into?”

“Nah, thanks.” Dean opens the first door and leans in, dropping his boots on the mat in front of the washer and dryer, wincing at the clumps of snow that fall off. “I’ve got some clothes in here,” he lifts the duffel with his last name stenciled on it. “Where can I leave my coat?”

“Oh, here. Let me take it.”

Dean hands off his coat, then ducks into the bathroom to trade out cold and wet jeans for just cold ones. He emerges from the bathroom holding the jeans folded so that the wet ends are inside.

“Just toss them in the dryer,” Castiel says. “Do you want some coffee?”

Dean groans in delight. “Oh, God. Yes, please. And thank you so much for letting a stranger in your house.”

Castiel shrugs, moving to the coffee maker as Dean puts his jeans in the dryer and turns it on. “If Gabe was willing to bring you to me, I trust his judgment.”

Dean laughs as he sits down at the small kitchen table. “Does he bring you strays often?”

“No. Gabe tends not to like people in general.”

Dean blinks down at the pit bull sitting next to him. “Huh. Could have fooled me.”

“Indeed. Get comfortable, Dean. Take your beanie off and get warm. We can figure out what to do after you thaw out a little.” He sets a coffee mug in front of Dean with dancing bees on it. “Do you want cream or sugar?”

While Dean was in the Marines he learned the value of black coffee, but Cas _is_ offering. “Yes. Both, please,” he says as he buries his nose in the mug, inhaling the steam gratefully.

Two thunks break him out of his reverie, and Dean drags his beanie off and drops it to the table before reaching for the two containers.

“Dean! You’re bleeding!”

“Huh? Oh, must have bashed my head on the steering wheel. I’ll be fine.” That explains why his ears are still ringing. Might also explain the fuzziness he seems to be having now that he thinks about it.

Castiel is suddenly back in front of him, a first aid kit on the table next to them. “This is going to sting, Dean. I’m sorry.” His hands are gentle as he cleans Dean’s forehead. “So what brings you to River’s Crossing?” Castiel murmurs as he doctors Dean’s face.

“Hmm? Oh, discharged from the Marines, headed to Cincy to crash with my brother for a while.”

“I see,” Castiel places a bandage on the cut and professes, “Good as new. Now, where is your car at?”

“About a twenty-minute walk from the welcome sign.”

“Alright. I’ll call the town’s mechanic, Bobby Singer, to get him to tow it to his shop. I can’t promise much more than that, though, not tonight.”

“That’s fine, man. Hey, y’all get cell reception out here?” Dean asks, pulling out his phone and checking it.

“We do. Normally it’s pretty good, but I think one of the towers is down. Don’t worry, Dean, we won’t trap you here.” Castiel winks and walks into the living room to pick up an honest-to-God landline.

Dean shakes his head and applies himself to the coffee, now cooled to an acceptable temperature. He pets Gabriel’s head as he listens to the rumble of Castiel’s voice from the other room.

“Bobby said he prefers to get the car in the morning if that’s OK with you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Here, give him my cell so he can call me when he picks her up.” Dean rattles off his number, which Castiel dutifully relays to the mechanic before wandering back to the living room. A few moments later, Castiel comes back into the kitchen.

“Her?”

“My baby’s a lady. Plus, all cars are her; you should know that.” He smirks into his coffee cup as Castiel sighs.

“You’ll get along just fine with Bobby, I think. Well, it’s late, and I do still have to get up early in the morning. I doubt there are any rooms left at the inn, but I do have a small guest house if that would be OK with you?”

Dean blinks at the offer, a little nonplussed, then nods his agreement. “Yeah, if you’re cool with it, I mean.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

It doesn’t take long for Dean to down his coffee. As he works on his coffee, he tells Castiel a little more about himself—his job in the Marines and a little about the dogs he’s worked with over the years. After that, they bundle back up, Dean retrieves his newly-dried jeans from the dryer, and Castiel and Gabe show Dean to the guest house.

“It isn’t much, but it’s weather-tight, and once the heat gets going, it stays warm. There is wood for the fireplace just outside if you want to get a head start on it.” Castiel shows him around the rest of the little cabin, pointing out where the towels and sheets are as they go. He also turns the water on, flips the vents open, and shows Dean how to use the smart thermostat.

“Man, this place is awesome, Cas. Thanks.”

Castiel looks at Dean, a strange look on his face. “Cas?”

Dean flushes. “Sorry. I have a habit of nicknaming people.”

Castiel tilts his head from side to side for a few seconds, then smiles. “I like it. Much better than Cassie, as my family insists on calling me.”

Dean snorts. “Yeah, I can’t talk too much since I still call my little brother Sammy. He’s 25 and tells me all the time ‘ _It’s Sam’_. The kid is also like, four inches taller than I am.”

Castiel shakes his head and laughs. “Good night, Dean. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, night Cas.”


	3. Hanukkah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The Festival of Lights is the eight-day Jewish celebration of the Maccabees and their fight for freedom._

Morning comes bright and early. Well, early, seeing how it's snowing again.

At five am, Dean finds himself wide awake and staring at the ceiling. Giving in, he gets up and puts in a half-assed PT session, cursing his brain the entire time. Around six, a knock on the door startles him. He peeks around the door to see Cas with a coffee cup.

“I saw the light on, so I figured I’d share.” He hands over a new mug, this one white with a grinning sun on it. Dean laughs when Castiel holds up the other one, this one also white, but with a disgruntled rain cloud on it.

“Thanks, man. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it. Habit is hard to break.”

“My Uncle Cain says that he never did manage to break the habit. Still gets up at five every morning, rain or shine. He’s friends with Bobby, the mechanic I called last night, and have been since they were in the Marines together. Uncle Cain says that Bobby is a ‘crusty old coot’, but he does the best work around here, to the point that people will come from two towns over just to have him work on their car.” Cas glances at his watch. “I have to go, but his shop isn’t far from here. Go out to the main road, turn left, then the next right will get you there, no more than a five-minute walk. Have a good day.” Cas gives him a small wave, which Dean returns by lifting the coffee mug, then he hitches his shoulder bag up and wades back around to the front of his house.

Dean shakes his head in bemusement. Weird guy, what with the collection of patterned coffee mugs. Nice, though. Easy on the eyes, too, Dean can admit to himself. He wanders back into the kitchen-slash-dining room and savors his coffee, letting it wake up the parts of his brain the PT didn’t. Once Dean drains the mug, he rinses it and puts it upside down to dry in the sink. He takes a shower then checks his phone. It’s close enough to seven he decides that Sam won’t murder him, so he calls his little brother to fill him in.

Two rings later, and Sam answers. “Hey, Dean, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to check in. I’m going to be getting to you later than I thought.”

He can hear the worry in his brother’s voice when he asks, “Is everything OK?”

“Yeah. Went off the road last night into a snowbank. I already know Baby needs parts before I can drive her again. Not sure how-”

“Whoa, wait,” Sam breaks in. “You went off the road? Are you OK?”

Dean huffs. “I’m fine. Bump on the head, but Baby needs new headlights, at the very least.”

Sam whistles. “Dean, you do realize how close to Christmas it is, yeah? I doubt you’re gonna be able to get parts for her unless that shop just happens to have them on hand.”

And shit, Sam’s right. “Damn it. I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Dude, you being in the States is a good enough present for me. Where the hell are you, anyway?”

“Someplace called River’s Crossing, Ohio.”

“Run if you hear banjos, Dean.” Sam laughs at Dean’s groan.

“Oh my God, you are such a dork. I’ll let you know what the mechanic says, OK, bitch?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, jerk. Leave me a message, though, gonna be in court all day.” Dean hears Sam murmur to Eileen and the soft sound of a kiss before he continues. “Sorry, saying bye to Eileen.”

“Nah, I get it, man. Tell E hi for me. Court all day, huh?”

They talk a little about Sam’s impending case until Dean’s call waiting beeps. “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll call you back later.”

“Yeah, man, see you.”

Dean hangs up and clicks over to the other line. “Captain Winchester.”

A beat of silence greets him. After a few seconds, a gruff voice asks, “Owner of the Impala stuck in the snow?”

Dean groans. “Yeah, that’s me. You get her out of the ditch alright?”

“Sure did. Bobby Singer, by the way.”

“I figured, sir. How bad is she?”

“Well, why don't you come on down here, and I’ll just show you. That way, we can talk face to face, ‘n all that.”

Dean agrees, and they hang up. He locates his coat, beanie, and boots, pulls them on, and walks out the door, only to be bowled over by approximately sixty pounds of excited pit bull in a blue cable sweater.

“Dude! OK, hi, yes, hi. Good morning, Gabe. Oh my God, you moron, let me up; snow is cold.” Dean shoves Gabe off him and scrambles up before the oaf can pounce on him again. “Heathen,” he mutters under his breath as he bats the snow off. Once he’s relatively snow-free again, he heads down the street.

Gabe speeds past him, playing in the mounded snow lining the street. Dean smiles at him as they make their way to the garage.

People are already out and about, some opening up shop while others are making their way out of town. Dean takes note of a bakery and decides he’ll swing in after hearing what Bobby has to say about his baby.

When he finds the garage, the bay door is shut, but a smaller entrance with a cheerful sign to _Come In!_ is just around the corner. He heads inside, a bell signaling his arrival.

The redhead at the desk looks up and grins. “Hi, there. Welcome to Singer Auto! I’m Charlie; how can I help you?”

“Hey there, Charlie. I’m Dean. Bobby called me about my Impala.”

Recognition flits across her face. “Oh, you’re the guy who tried to do a Han Solo and become an icicle. Bobby!” she yells through the open door. “The Impala’s here!”

“Oh, good, send that idjit in here.”

Charlie points Dean to the door right next to the desk, so he steps right on through. Inside the bay, he sees his baby and a dude with a battered blue trucker’s cap on walking around her. He steps forward. “Dean Winchester, sir.” Once he’s got the guy’s attention, he sticks his hand out.

“None of that shit here, boy,” Bobby says, giving Dean’s hand a hearty shake. “I was enlisted in the Marines, and I still work for a living. Nice to meet this lady’s owner; good lookin’ man for a good lookin’ car. Well, minus the bumps and bruises she has.”

“Thank you, sir. She was my dad’s before me. Best thing he ever did for me, leaving her to me.” He sniffs and looks back up at Bobby. “So, what’s the damage?”

Bobby waves him over and starts pointing out everything that's “must fix” and “probably should fix”. It’s pretty much exactly what Dean had guessed right after the accident. Headlights and grill need to be replaced to get her roadworthy again, and the bumper and hood need to be smoothed out, so rust doesn’t have a foothold.

“So here’s the bad part,” Bobby says as they go back up to the waiting area. “I gotta custom order the headlights from one of my buddies who runs a salvage yard out in South Dakota who specializes in classics. The _best_ I can do is three weeks, ‘cause right now he’s on vacation for a week, and then after that, there’s no telling how long it would take to get it shipped on account of the weather.”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, I figured that would be the case. It’s worth it for the old girl, though.” He cocks his head to the side, thinking. “Is there anywhere I can stay while I’m here?”

Bobby looks surprised. “You plan on staying?”

Dean shrugs. “Not like I got anywhere I _have_ to be. Just got discharged, and my brother knows where I am. Hell, it might be fun to take a vacation for once.”

“Well, you couldn’t have picked a better place to spend Christmas than River’s Crossing. We tend to go all out for the holiday.” Charlie snorts, and Bobby points at her, scowling. He then cocks his head to the side and looks back at Dean. “Didn’t you stay with Castiel last night?”

“Yeah, in his guest house.”

“Hmm. That’s probably the only place in town right now. The inn is full, and I’m assuming you don’t know anyone?” At Dean’s shake of the head, he continues. “I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to let you keep staying there.” A bark from outside catches Bobby’s attention. “Did Gabriel follow you here?”

“Sure did. Kept me company the whole way.”

“Huh. Gabe’s never done that before. He usually stays at the house when Castiel’s at work. Not too fond of strangers.” Bobby levels a thoughtful gaze at Dean.

Gabe jumps up and starts barking when he sees Dean through the window.

Bobby shakes his head and mutters under his breath, tilting his head to the door. “You better get going before he freezes his tail off out there. Oh! You should go to church on Sunday, meet some of the other townsfolk that will be there.”

Dean makes a non-committal noise as he watches Gabe’s head disappear and reappear behind the glass. “I’ll think about it.” He looks back at Bobby and holds his hand out again. “Keep me updated?”

“You got it.”

Charlie waves at him before giving him a bright smile and the Vulcan salute, which he returns, to her delight, then ducks out of the shop. Gabe is all over him instantly, so he scratches the dog’s ears as he pulls out his phone. He fires off a text to Sam, letting him know what’s what and asking him to call after he gets home. That done, he tucks his phone away and looks down at the dog.

“So. What’s fun to do around here?”

Dean spends about a half an hour trolling down the main drag, Gabe still at his heels. He passes by all sorts of little shops: a general store, a grocery store, a few boutique-type places, and a diner that smells _fantastic_ thanks to the scent of grilling burgers wafting out onto the street makes his mouth water. They’ve all got lights and decorations strung up inside, but nothing outside yet, and Dean finds himself wondering why.

When he sees the bakery again, he makes a beeline for it. As he reaches for the door, it’s flung open, and a redhead pops out.

“Hey! What are you doing? That’s my brother’s dog!” Her hands are on her hips, but the chattering of her teeth slightly ruins the image she’s trying to give.

“Uh. Is your brother Castiel, by chance?”

The woman quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah. How do you know that?”

“Well, short version, since it’s cold as fuck out here: I wrecked my car, and your brother put me up in his guest house for the night after I followed Gabe home.”

The redhead deflates. “Oh. Well, then, come on in.” She reaches out and pulls the door open. “I’m Anna, by the way.”

Dean blinks at the 180, but he is cold, and Gabe is starting to tremble a little, too. He points at the dog. “Only if he can come in, too.”

She waves them in, and Dean enters the brightly lit space, looking around. He’s delighted to find it's not just the bakery he saw earlier, but a coffee shop as well. He takes a hearty breath in and sighs in pleasure at the smell of baking bread.

“So, what can I get you?”

Dean startles, opening his eyes and grinning sheepishly at Anna. “Just a regular coffee and egg and bacon bagel for breakfast?”

Anna’s eyes twinkle as she rings him up. “Sure thing. $5.25.”

Dean hands over a ten and waves away the change. “Probably should get something for the fleabag, too,” he adds.

She slides his coffee over to him, and he wanders over to the station to doctor it up. As he’s sitting down, Anna comes out to him with a plate with a bagel on it and a bowl full of water. She sets the plate in front of Dean and the bowl down on the floor for Gabriel. “I’ll be right back with a puppachino for him.”

Dean spends the next few hours people-watching. He grins and waves as Charlie speeds by, watches as all sorts of people wander back and forth. He makes up stories for them in his head. He wonders, as someone in a bright pink parka walks by, what Benny and Tran are up to right now. Who Zuzu’s new handler is, what they are like. He reaches down and pats Gabriel on the head.

Around noon, a troupe of people comes into the store, chattering back and forth to each other.

“Hey, Mom!” Anna comes around the counter to hug a tall woman with her hair in a bun before turning to a blonde woman. “Aunt Colette! Is the committee finally ready to start decorating the town?”

Colette smiles. “We wanted to let you know to go with snowflakes this year. They decided on a ‘classy winter wonderland’ theme.” Dean snorts a laugh at the use of the air quotes.

Bun-lady hones in on him quickly. “Who’s this, Anna? I don’t know him.”

Dean stands, extending his hand. “Dean Winchester, ma’am. Just staying until my car gets fixed.” They shake, and the woman narrows her eyes at him.

“I take it that means that old coot Bobby is taking care of your car, then?” Dean nods, and the woman hurries on. “Well, I’m Naomi Novak, mayor of River’s Crossing. So you’ll be staying through Christmas, then?”

“Possibly New Years, as well. Bobby said it might take a while to get the parts in for my car.”

“Oh, that’s lovely!” Colette breaks in. “River’s Crossing is slightly famous for our Christmas celebrations. You’ll take part, I hope?”

“Uh, sure?” It’s phrased as a question, but Colette doesn’t catch it.

She claps and cheers. “Oh, good! Come on, Naomi, we must get to the rest of the shops and tell them what the theme is this year. Come on!” She ushers the group back out the door, and then they’re alone again. Gabe even pokes his head around the counter, making sure the coast is clear.

Dean looks over at Anna. “What in the world?”

Anna snorts a laugh. “Aunt Colette is in charge of the decoration committee. She’s not all that impressed with the theme this year, but she takes her duties seriously.” She leans over and winks at him. “My mom is the one who suggested it.”

“Ah, it seems I owe her a thanks, then. I was actually laughing over Colette’s use of air quotes,” he demonstrates, to Anna’s laughter, “not the theme.”

“Oh, she won’t care. Mom, though, she might eat you alive.” Anna winks and hands him another coffee.

Around four, Anna finally kicks him out. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,” she says, so Dean heads back to Cas’ place. He decides that it’s high time to get himself a pair of gloves and a scarf, so he stops in the general store on the way and picks up both. He gets to meet Cain, his host’s uncle, who grills him on what Dean’s plans are for Christmas until Dean can escape back out into the cold.

He’s on the front step of Cas’ house, throwing snowballs for Gabe when Castiel pulls up. Gabriel immediately abandons Dean and runs to greet Cas when he gets out of the truck.

“Hi, yes, I missed you, too, Gabe,” he says as he tries to navigate the snow-covered walk. He’s trying to pet Gabe and keep his bag on his shoulder at the same time, but loses the battle with the bag as he notices Dean. He smiles. “Hello, Dean. I expected you to have left already.”

“Nah, Bobby’s going to have to special order the parts for my car. She’s a classic, so it’s not like they sell them at AutoZone or something.” Dean gets out of the way so Cas can unlock his door, then follows him inside when Castiel motions for him to come in.

“So, how was your day? Do anything exciting?” Dean asks as Cas hangs up his coat in the closet next to the door.

“Nothing exciting, I’m afraid. I’m a history teacher at the high school. I’m just glad it’s the end of the semester. No school for a month and the kids can finally blow off some steam.” Cas throws his scarf and hat down on the table, then heads into the kitchen. “So, what did you and Gabe get up to today?”

Dean shrugs. “Not much. Met your sister, who thought I was trying to steal Gabe.”

“Ah, that explains the frowny-face text I got from her. Gabe tends to be a little standoffish around her.” He pours a scoop of kibble in the bowl, and Gabe sticks his face into it, practically inhaling his food.

“So,” Cas says, looking at Dean. “Dinner?”

Dean grins. “I could eat.”

Cas takes him to the diner off the main street. “This place has the best burgers,” he says as he pulls the door open.

It’s a seat-yourself type of place, and Cas steers them to a booth in the back. As they sit down, a server comes by and gives them two menus. “Y’all know what you want to drink?”

After a glance at the menus, they give her their full order, a bacon cheeseburger for Dean, a cheeseburger for Cas, fries for both, and two beers. They sit and chat for hours, long after the food is gone, and end up being run out of the diner by the staff so they can clean and close up shop.

“So. Three weeks, at least, until Bobby can fix your car?” Cas asks as they stroll through the snow.

“Yeah, I’m gonna try to get a room at the inn even though Bobby said it was full; that way, I’m not invading your guest house.”

“You don’t have to do that, Dean. It’s no trouble.”

“Yeah, but with it being Christmas and all, don’t you have family coming to visit?”

Cas shrugs. “All of my family is here already.”

Dean blinks a few times, processing this information. “Wow. OK, so you _really_ don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

The next morning Dean goes through his new routine again, adding a run and stopping for coffee and muffins for him and Cas. After they eat and Dean showers, he finds himself being pushed down to the main drag to help decorate after Naomi gives a speech. He’s reasonably sure he’s never seen that many lights in one place before, let alone had to help someone put them up. He’s not even sure there were this many lights on base.

After the lights are up (which takes all damn day), there are decorations to hang. That eats up the rest of the day. By the time they’re done with the lights, Dean’s head is throbbing, and he’s ready to take a nap right there in a snowbank.

“Dean? Are you OK?” When Dean looks up, he sees Cas’ face lined with worry.

“’M fine. Head’s bothering me a little, but I can power through.”

“Come on. The committee finished up for the day. Let’s go home and warm up.” And yeah, that sounds really appealing, so he stumbles along beside Cas to his place. Gabe, in a red sweater with The Grinch on it, greets them at the door, and Cas firmly pushes Dean down on the couch.”Stay there. I’ll make some dinner and coffee. Rest.”

Dean starts to protest; Cas worked just as long as Dean did today, but he snaps his mouth shut at the glare the other man gives him.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, you win. I’ll keep Gabe entertained.” Gabe perks up at his name and lays his head down on Dean’s knee. Castiel gives him a short nod and heads into the kitchen.

Dean looks down at Gabe. “He likes getting his own way, doesn’t he?” Gabe just huffs and jumps on the couch, laying down and plops his head down in Dean’s lap. They sit in silence, listening to Cas bustle around the kitchen while Dean pets Gabe on the head and lets his mind drift.

Apparently, he lets his mind drift right into sleep because the next thing he knows, Castiel is shaking his shoulder gently.

“Hello, Dean. Dinner’s ready.” Gabe looks up at Cas’ voice. “Yes, it’s dinner time for you too, Gabriel. Up you both get.”

Gabe scrambles off the couch, bolting for his bowl. Dean follows him at a more sedate pace. By the time he makes it into the kitchen, the dog is munching away happily at his food, and Dean’s mouth is watering at the scent.

“Alfredo?” He plunks himself down and takes another deep breath.

Castiel laughs as he sets a plate down in front of Dean. “I take it you like alfredo?”

Dean twirls a fettuccine noodle around his fork and pops it into his mouth. He groans in appreciation when the flavors burst on his tongue, closing his eyes to savor it for a moment before answering. When he opens them, he’s met with Castiel’s amused look and clears his throat. “Honestly, right now, any home-cooked food is amazing. Years of serving in the Marines, plus being in Afghanistan for the last one?” He takes another bite, this one loaded with broccoli and chicken, and moans. “This is nirvana, man.”

Castiel’s eyes twinkle. “I’m glad you approve, then.”

The rest of the meal is spent mostly in silence, except for the appreciative noises that Dean can’t help but let out once in a while. When his plate is empty, he pushes it away with a content sigh. “Cas, that was the best pasta I’ve had in literal years. Thank you.”

Castiel gives him a gummy smile, and Dean feels his heart flutter a little. “It was my pleasure. It’s nice to get to cook for someone other than just me for once. You must tell me if there’s something specific you’d want for a future dinner. I love cooking, but when the only other people that will eat with me are my sister and niece—and that’s rare since Aunt Collete can out-cook me any day—well...” He shrugs.

Dean quirks an eyebrow at Cas. “Why do you think all us military bachelors live on chow hall food or shit we can cook in the dorms? It’s a pain in the _ass_ to cook for one.”

Castiel bursts out laughing. “Touché, my friend.” He leans back and groans. “Every year, I forget how much work it is to set up the lights on Main. My shoulders are already complaining.”

 _Hmm_. Dean thinks for half a second, pondering his response, then decides to go for it. He hopes he hasn’t been reading Cas wrong this whole time. “Want a shoulder massage?”

Castiel sighs. “That would be lovely, Dean. Only if you don’t mind, though.”

Dean grins. “I wouldn’t have offered, otherwise. Go get settled in front of the couch. I’m going to go get something I normally use for my knee, be right back.” He throws on his coat and steps into his boots, then heads over to the guest house.

He digs through his bag, looking for the little amber bottle of that awesome massage oil Eileen gave him a few years ago, after he blew out his knee. He’d been firmly against using the stuff at first, fearing something floral smelling, but Eileen knows him well. She had Sam sit on him while she slathered it on his knee herself, and he’s been a firm believer in the stuff since. He even coaxed the recipe for making it himself out of her.

Gabe pounces on him as soon as he gets in the back door, happy to see him all over again. “Don’t like people, my ass,” Dean says to him, petting him with one hand while he peels his jacket off with the other. Gabe attaches himself to Dean’s leg as they wander back into the living room.

“Man, I’m starting to think y’all are lying to me about Gabe not being a people dog. He loves plastering himself to me every chance he gets.”

Castiel, who was now sitting on a pillow in front of the couch, leans his head back and watches Dean as he crosses the room. “He normally isn't like that with anyone other than me. I adopted him from the shelter in Jackson when he was just a year old.”

Dean settles in behind Cas as he talks and plucks at his shirt for him to take it off as he continues.

“The shelter told me that he was an owner surrender. It was so sad, he was just sitting on his little bed in his run, staring at the wall. Dean—oh, that smells nice—he looked like he’d given up, and I couldn’t leave him there without at least trying to make friends. Right there; oh, yes. I opened the run door, and he looked up and wagged his tail. The girl who worked there—Becky, I think?—told me that was the first time since he’d been dropped off that he’d even looked at someone, let alone wagged his tail. I took him home with me that afternoon.”

With the last sentence, Cas’ head falls forward, his chin resting on his chest. He rumbles in pleasure at the massage.

Dean chuckles. “Did I just turn you into a big cat?”

“Quite possibly. It feels truly amazing, Dean. Where did you learn how to do this?”

“Ah, I’ve got a bum knee. Sometimes this stuff is the only way I could get through the two-mile run in the mornings. The massage part” —he digs a finger into a knot, and Cas groans— “was taught to me by my physical therapist to keep the scar tissue in my knee from building up.”

“I’m sorry about your knee, but I'm so delighted you picked this up in return.” He groans again when Dean hits another knot.

After that, the two men sit in silence, Cas rocking back and forth as Dean works all the kinks out. Finally, Dean smooths his hands from Cas’ ears, down his neck, and to his shoulders. “Alright, panther, all done.”

Cas leans back, tipping his head onto Dean’s knees. “Thank you. I feel so much better now.”

Dean looks down and notices for the first time that Cas’ eyes look like the ocean. “You’re welcome.”

Dean is one-hundred percent smitten. He’s gotta be.

“Hey, Cas. Why are we doing this, again?”

Castiel settles into his throne and adjusts his hat. “ _I’m_ doing this because I do this every year, Dean. The children have to be able to tell Santa what they want for Christmas, right?” He smooths down the fake mustache and beard, so the hairs all point the same way.

Yeah, Dean’s smitten. There’s no other reason he’d be standing next to a grown man dressed up as Father Christmas. Gabe’s dressed up, too, wearing a pair of antlers and an outfit that makes him look like he could be one of Santa’s elves.

“You really do this every year?”

“Mhm. Uncle Cain used to—still does on Christmas morning, for our family—but his knees got too bad for this part of it, so I took over. It’s fun.” He twitches the hat to the side and looks over at Dean. “You don’t have to stay.”

True, but- “Are you going to make me dress up like an elf if I do?”

Castiel laughs, eyes twinkling. “No. Although if you want to-”

“Nope,” Dean cuts in over Castiel’s laugh, “I’m good, thanks.” He looks around, and his eyes land on a familiar bright-blue barrel. “Dude, you’ve got Toys for Tots here? That’s pretty bad-ass, helping the Marines collect toys.”

“We do every year. Those toys are for next year, though, since this year’s toys are already gone.”

“Still, though. It’s pretty cool to see it.” And it warms his heart to know that this town pulls together for kids who may not have a Christmas otherwise.

Cas smiles over at him. “You miss them, don’t you? Your brothers-in-arms?”

Dean doesn’t get a chance to answer, since Anna opens the doors and a line of people snake in. He waves to Cas and steps back to the side. He’s soon pressed into helping Anna and Colette keep fresh coffee and cookies out for the parents to consume while the kids wait for their turn with “Santa.” A kid with shaggy, brown hair climbs up into Cas’ lap, and Dean can't help but snap a picture to show Cas later. The kid reminds him of Sammy at that age.

He keeps watching Cas listen intently to the children in his lap. He’s beautiful, even with the fake beard covering his face.

Someone clears their throat behind him, startling him. He turns to see a short-haired woman in a uniform standing behind him. She sticks out a hand. “Sheriff Jody Mills. And you are?”

Dean shakes her hand. “Dean Winchester, sir. Er, ma’am.”

Sheriff Mills’ eyebrow ticks up, and she smiles. “Military?”

Dean rubs the back of his neck. “Ah- yeah. Marines. Kinda gave myself away there, didn’t I?”

“Eh, just a little. Either is fine with me, by the way.” She looks him up and down. “So, you’re new around here.”

“Yeah, ran my Impala off the road in that storm a few nights ago. Castiel is letting me stay in his guest house until she gets fixed.”

She hums. “So, what did’ja do in the Marines?”

 _This,_ of course, is one of Dean’s favorite subjects to talk about. Jody (“I’m not my mother, either call me Sheriff Mills or Jody.”) and Dean end up swapping work stories back and forth, Dean going on about his dogs and Jody regaling Dean with stories of small-town cop life. Neither of them notices the ebbing of people around them until Jody smiles at someone behind Dean.

“Cas! Done with all the kiddos?”

Dean twists around in time to see Castiel smile and nod. “I am, for today. Plus, my reindeer is getting antsy to go outside, I think.” And sure enough, Gabe is prancing and dancing at Cas’ feet.

“Well, we can't disappoint your reindeer, can we? Let’s all head outside,” Jody suggests.

They all bundle up, Cas just throwing on his coat over the Santa outfit, and tromp behind Gabriel out of the building. The dog runs right for a snowdrift and plunges into it.

“Great,” Cas drawls. “Now I’ll have to give him a bath when we get home.” He sighs, a forlorn look on his face.

Dean bumps his shoulder. “I’ll help. Can't be worse than some of the dogs I’ve dealt with over the years, and they’re trained to bite when provoked.”

“What types of dogs did you work with, Dean?” Jody asks.

“Belgian Malinois and German Shepherds, mostly. I’ve worked both bomb and narcs over the years, with one or two patrol-only.”

Jody looks impressed. “Damn, that’s awesome. I’ve wanted a K9 unit here for ages, but I’ve never been able to get a qualified handler since we don’t have the money for the training.” She chats with Castiel about the types of dogs that make good K9 partners and why, but Dean tunes them out.

 _He_ could be a K9 unit cop if he wanted. He’s got all the training already, and he’s more than willing to work with a new dog to get them trained up the right way; he’s done it often enough. Dean continues to mull this over until Gabe decides he’s done playing in the now obliterated snowbank and makes a run for Dean’s knees.

Unfortunately, Dean’s not paying attention. Gabe hits him head-on in the bad one, and Dean goes down with a shout, ears ringing. He shakes his head to dispel the sound and pats Gabe on the head to console him before pushing the worried pup away.

“Dean!” The voice above him is muffled, and Dean swings his head toward it so he can identify the speaker. Cas is kneeling next to him, reaching out to steady him as he sits up. Dean waves him away.

“I’m alright, I'm alright. Gabe just got a lucky shot in on my bad knee.” The ringing starts to fade as he awkwardly hauls himself out of the snow.

A large hand grips his bicep to help him up, and Dean reaches out, grasping Cas’ shoulder. “Thanks.” He pats the shoulder and steps away, testing his balance. Gabe slinks over to Dean, and he reaches down, petting him on the head. “It’s OK, buddy. I’m OK.” He straightens and looks over at Cas and Jody, whose faces are lined with worry. “I’m alright, I promise. I think I need to head back to the house and ice this knee before it swells up and starts to cause problems, though.”

Jody hums in agreement. “Let me drive you boys back to the house. Got my truck right around the building.”

“I’m sure as hell not going to say no. Thanks, Jody.”

They load up in the truck, and Jody delivers them safely to the house, where Gabe runs directly into another snowbank. Cas and Dean wave goodbye to Jody and wait for Gabe to finish playing before herding the cold pit bull into the bathroom to wash off the grime. He proves to be just as squirmy as any other dog Dean’s ever bathed, but he’s sneaky about trying to get the two humans just as soaked as he is. Once he’s finally clean, mostly dry, and let free to run around and rub himself against everything he can, Dean looks over at Cas.

“Please tell me you have Advil or something. And a bag of peas.”

Cas chuckles. “I have both, actually. Go get comfortable on the couch, and I’ll bring them out to you.”

Dean hobbles over to the living room, then decides he kind of wants a fire. So he drags a few logs over and gets everything settled, lighting some newspaper in the fireplace and getting it going. Once it’s started, he plops himself on the couch with a sigh. He’s just starting to consider going and looking for Cas when the man walks in with a tray, Gabe trotting beside him with a bag of ice in his mouth.

“Oh, you started a fire. You didn't have to do that, Dean.” He sets the tray on the coffee table and takes the ice bag from Gabe, wrapping it in a towel. “I don’t actually have any frozen peas, sorry,” he says as he hands the bundle over.

“’S OK. This is just as good as long as you have the drugs.” Cas hands the bottle over, along with a glass of water, then sits down next to Dean, swapping the glass for a mug once he’s finished tossing down the tablets. Dean quirks an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“Hot cocoa. I figured after Gabe knocked you into the snow and then drenched us both, we deserved it. He looks over at Gabe. “And no, you don't get any.”

It’s comical to watch the dog’s face fall, and Dean can’t contain a laugh at the pup's expense.

The two men sit in a comfortable silence as they nurse the cocoa, watching the flames dance behind the grate. Dean feels almost mesmerized by the fire as he slumps further and further toward Cas. Eventually, his head lands on Cas’ shoulder. He blinks sleepily and looks up to see Cas looking back at him, a small smile on his face.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hi. Is this OK?”

“Mhm. Very much so.” Cas slings an arm around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him in tight. After a few seconds, Cas runs the tip of his nose across Dean’s temple. Dean shivers as Cas’ nose travels down his face. Cas bumps his nose to Dean’s cheek, drawing Dean’s gaze to his and Cas takes advantage, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Is _this_ OK?”

“Yeah,” Dean breaths. This is going so much better than he could have hoped, assuming he’d dared to do so. “This is awesome.”

For once, Dean doesn't wake before dawn, nor does he come awake all at once, like he usually does. He rouses in his borrowed bed in the guest house slowly, with the brightening of the room. Once he’s fully awake, he smiles up at the ceiling. He’s known the man who is letting him stay in his guest house for less than a week. He doesn't really know anyone else in this town, but… he thinks he could be happy here if he let himself. He might have a job prospect if Jody okays it, and he’s got a fledgling friend in Anna, at least. And then there’s Cas…

Cas would be worth sticking around for, he thinks.

Dean stretches and sits up, flexing his knee to test for soreness. _Good enough_ , he decides and gets up to do a few stretches that his physical therapist had given him. Once he’s limbered up a little more, he wanders out into the kitchen and decides he doesn't want to deal with anyone trying to drag him to church (and by all accounts, Naomi will, if she finds him), so he decides to make himself scarce.

The bell above the coffeeshop door tinkles when he enters, and a young blonde looks up from the counter. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

It’s delivered in such a deadpan manner, the I-hate-mornings _clearly_ coming through, that Dean can't help but grin. “Hey. Just a black coffee and a muffin. Surprise me on the muffin.”

After staring at him for a few seconds, she sullenly turns and gets the mug, fills it, turns back, and plunks it down on the counter. When she does the same with the muffin, it's all Dean can do to _not_ laugh at the poor girl.

“Five bucks.” Dean slides over a ten and retreats with his breakfast to the same corner table he sat at two days prior.

The girl is quiet until just before Dean finishes his muffin. “Are you hiding from the church crowd?”

“Am I that obvious?”

She smirks. “Sorta? I don't recognize you, and since I don't do church, my mom makes me work here every Sunday. Says it keeps me out of trouble or whatever.”

“That’s actually a pretty good deal. If my dad had been a church-goer, I’d-a been in church, like it or not.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Really? That seems like it would just make you hate it more.”

“You’re not wrong, Blondie. But for me, I just don't care for the idea of organized religion in general. I have nothin’ against it, not really, it’s just not for me.”

She nods slowly. “Do you believe in God?”

Dean sits back and picks up his coffee cup. “Oof, that’s some heavy stuff to get into this early in the morning.” She winces and opens her mouth to retort, but he waves her off. “That wasn’t anything against you. I'm not sure I believe in God, not after all the crap I’ve seen while I was in the Marines, but I do believe something is out there.” He pauses, searching for the words he wants, and she comes out from behind the counter. He waves at the open seat and continues as she sits down.

“Like I said, I don't know if I believe in God, per se. But, I choose to believe something bigger than all of us _is_ out there, something that started it all. Something that looks on and lends a hand only when absolutely necessary.” He focuses on the girl, who has a thoughtful look on her face. “Does that make sense?”

She chews on her lip. “It kinda does, yeah. Kinda like a higher force or power, right?”

Dean nods. “Exactly.”

She’s quiet for a few moments, eyes unfocused as she thinks. “Do… do you think everything happens for a reason?”

Dean sighs. “That… that’s a hard one, and it depends on your own outlook in life. Personally? I think it seems that way when you look back. But what matters is how you deal with it when it happens.”

She looks away and nods. “OK,” she says quietly. She looks back at Dean and, after a beat, holds out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Claire.”

She refreshes his coffee (and gets one for herself) as they sit and talk. Dean learns she’s eighteen and an orphan, her foster mom is Anna, and that she has a hell of a chip on her shoulder.

When the after-church crowd starts trickling in, the conversation falls to the side in favor of Claire taking care of customers. As Dean gets ready to leave, he makes sure to leave another ten-dollar bill on the table. He winks at Claire as he ducks out of the cafe.

“I met Claire this morning,” Dean says to Cas, later that day as they stroll along the sidewalk downtown (long after church is over, thank you).

Cas frikin _lights up_. “I’m glad. She’s a good girl.” His face turns worried. “She wasn't too abrasive, was she?”

Dean laughs, startling the vendor they are passing. “Not for me. And I agree, she is a good kid. We had an awesome conversation about the merits of not following an organized religion over coffee.”

Castiel looks over at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” They continue through the little pop-up market, looking at the items already set out and helping others with heavy set-up when needed. The edge of a lake is the only thing that halts the vendors’ spread.

“Oh, it looks like George is out testing the thickness of the ice,” Cas says. He points to a figure sliding around out on the lake. “We might be able to set up the ice rink this week.”

Dean blinks. “Man, I haven't been ice skating in...” he trails off, thinking. “Actually, I don't remember if I’ve ever been ice skating.”

Cas takes his hand and squeezes it. “We’ll go and change that, then. As soon as the ice is ready.” They turn away from the lake and wander back through the market again. Cas picks up two cups of hot chocolate, and Dean picks up a bouquet of camellias, handing them over to Cas shyly. The man lights up like, well...

A Christmas tree.

They sit down next to the giant tree that Cas informs him will be decorated during the next week and finish their hot chocolate. Dean leans into Cas’ shoulder and smiles at the flowers.

The shoppers start clearing out, and they see Anna, Claire, Cain, and Colette—who wave with big smiles on their faces. After Naomi passes them, squinting, they laugh and lean in closer to each other. After the vendors leave, Dean sighs.

“Guess it’s time to head in.”

“Mm-hmm. I’m sure Gabe is wondering where dinner is, too.”

They walk through the town hand in hand, and Dean takes in the shops' decorations in the windows. They tie in very well with the work he and Cas put in the day before. Main Street really is starting to look like a “classy winter wonderland.”

At the house, Dean tugs Cas back from the bottom step to face him. He crowds up to Cas and bumps their noses together. “Hi.”

The crinkles at the corners of Cas’ eyes appear. “Hello, Dean.”

“Thanks for walkin’ me around town.”

“You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.”

They stand there, sharing space and air for a few minutes until the cold starts seeping in and nipping at Dean’s toes through his boots. He blinks and focuses on the blue eyes in front of him, and yeah, Dean’s a goner. He leans in and kisses Cas softly.

“Goodnight, Cas. I’ll see you in the morning.” He backs away until their hands separate, then he heads around the main house to the cabin with a grin plastered to his face that he never wants to lose.


	4. Yule (Winter Solstice)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A Pagan winter festival that was celebrated by the historical Germanic people from late December to early January._

In the morning, Dean gets up and does his now-familiar routine of stretches and warm-ups before heading out to Anna’s for coffee and muffins for him and Cas. Anna winks at him as she hands the bag over, and Dean does _not_ blush, thank you.

There is snow falling again when he opens the door, and he’s glad for the beanie and scarf he grabbed that morning. As he walks, he plans out the rest of his day. After he greets Cas with coffee, he should check in with Sam again, and he'd like to get over to Bobby’s to see if there’s any work he can do on the Impala’s bumper. Maybe he could do an oil change while he’s there? He’s so distracted that he overlooks the little Kia in Cas’ drive. He only notices something is off when he goes to knock on Cas’ door and sees Gabe is already outside.

Gabe jumps up and prances over to him, tail wagging so hard the rest of his sweater-clad body—today in a blue-grey—goes with it. Dean doesn't have a hand free, but Gabe doesn’t care and just presses up against Dean’s thigh.

“Okay…” he mutters under his breath. He transfers one of the cups of coffee to the crook of his elbow, then knocks twice. Man and dog wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Dean looks down at Gabe, who just looks up at him and thumps his tail on the ground. So Dean looks back at the door and knocks again, a hair harder.

The door rips open to reveal a tiny brunette woman. She glares at Dean, a scowl twisting her lips. “ _WHAT_?”

Gabe scrambles behind Dean, peeking out from behind Dean’s legs.

“Uh. Where’s Cas?” He gestures to the coffee in his hand.

She narrows her eyes at him, appraising. “Clarence!” she yells, “Coffee delivery is here!” She turns away and stomps back into the living room, throwing herself on the couch.

Dean blinks in shock then hurries into the house, kicking the door closed behind him. Gabe scuttles along behind him as he walks into the kitchen and sets everything down.

Just as Dean is deciding whether or not just to take his coffee and go, Cas stumbles into the kitchen. He’s in pj's and a white t-shirt, and his hair is fucked six ways to Sunday. He squints at Dean.

“You brought coffee.”

“Uh, yes?”

Castiel stalks over to Dean, who stumbles back a few steps before Cas catches up to him, grabs him by the front of his coat and hauls him in for a bruising kiss.

Dean’s out of breath when Castiel releases him, and his mouth runs off without his brain. “Damn, if that's what I get for coffee, what do I get for bringing you a muffin, too?”

A wolfish grin spreads across Cas’ face, and he leans in, kissing Dean again. “Ask me again when we get to know each other a little better.”

Well, then. “‘Kay.”

Castiel pecks one more kiss on Dean’s lips before he diverts to the coffee cup with his name on it. His eyes close in bliss as he takes his first sip. “Thank you, Dean. And I apologize for the rude greeting Meg gave you.”

“Oh, it’s ok, I guess. She just surprised me.”

“Yes, she’s good at that. She got in late last night and then kept me up until about three hours ago. Gabe’s been outside since she got here, too. He’s afraid of her.”

Dean pats Gabe on the head, pushing down the tightness in his chest at Castiel’s words. “He can stay with me until she leaves.”

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate it, and so does Gabe. Especially since I have no idea how long she’s planning to stay.”

Dean sips at his coffee for a few moments until he decides the awkwardness has become too much. “Well, I’ll get outta y’all’s hair. Want me to take Gabe with me?”

Cas opens his eyes, blinking owlishly. “Oh. Yes, that’s fine. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, sure.” He pats his leg, getting the dog’s attention. “Come on, Gabe.”

They wander down to Anna’s first. More coffee for Dean and a bran muffin for Gabe later, Anna sits down at the table with Dean.

“Alright, what’s wrong, Dean? You look like someone kicked your puppy.”

Gabe huffs, and Dean pats his head. “She better not. Do you know who Meg is?”

Anna sucks a breath in through her teeth. “Unfortunately, I do. She’s Castiel’s ex-girlfriend.”

Dean’s heart drops, and he looks down at his coffee. “Ah.”

Anna clears her throat. “I take it you met her after you left here earlier?”

“Yeah. Gabe was out on the front porch. She answered the door, yelled for Cas. He apologized for her. That was it.”

“Well, damn. Hope she doesn't stick around for long. Wonder what she drove all the way from Chicago for? They broke up ages ago when she decided to go to work for the university.” She squints in the direction of Cas’ house. “I sure the hell hope she isn't trying to get him to move up there with her, again.”

Dean swallows. “Do you think he’ll go? With her?”

Anna shrugs slowly. “I hope not. But who knows? Cassie has always done his own thing.”

“Ah.” They’re quiet for a few moments until Dean sees a customer on the sidewalk heading towards the door. “Well, thanks again for the coffee. We’ll get out of your hair. See ya.” He bundles back up and slips out of the shop while Anna is occupied with the new customer. Dean and Gabe wander down to Bobby’s shop, where the man takes one look at Dean and sets him to work doing oil changes. Gabe lays down in the corner in a nest of rags and hangs out for the day.

It’s about noon when Bobby wanders over to the car Dean is working on. “Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but what drove you over to see me today?”

For a second, Dean considers lying through his teeth, but something tells him Bobby would see right through him. “Was already plannin’ on coming by to see if I could do any work on the Impala, but Cas has a visitor. Kinda threw me, and I like workin’ on cars when I'm out of sorts.” He looks over at Bobby. “Cars are simple, straight-forward.”

Bobby twitches his mustache. “Typically, yes, they are. Alright, well, any time you feel outta sorts, you’re more than welcome to come here and make my life easier. Hell, I’ve got everything you need to give your old girl a tuneup.” He shrugs. “You know. If you want.”

So Dean (after being bullied into eating lunch by Charlie) moves over to the bay Baby’s sitting in. Gabe wanders over soon after, Bobby on his heels.

“You know,” Bobby says as Dean sets out the tools he wants, “I’ve never seen that idjit dog follow anyone around like he does you.”

“Eh, I’m used to it; I was K9 in the Marines.”

“Oh, yeah? What kinda dog?”

That starts a series of story swapping that keeps Dean’s mind from wandering as he fiddles with the Impala. When the sun finally sinks below the horizon, Bobby kicks him out.

“You can come back any time I’m open, but for now, git goin’ and stop mopin’.”

Dean grins at him and throws Bobby a salute, which gets Dean a boot in the ass for his trouble. He laughs the whole way back to the guest house.

He lets himself in and makes his way to the kitchen but stops short when he sees two bowls, a dog food bag, a pile of doggie clothing, and a note on the counter. He puts the bowls down and fills them, then picks up the note.

> _Dean,_
> 
> _Meg has decided to stay with me until she is due to return to her home in Illinois. Since Gabe’s taken a liking to you, I trust you to be able to care for him as I would. He gets one scoop in the morning and two at night, and don't let him talk you into any more than that. I promise he’s not starving to death._
> 
> _Can you come knock on the back door when you get back?_
> 
> _-Cas_

Dean looks over at Gabe. “Well, no more full bowls for you; your dad totally told on you.”

Gabe huffs and walks away. Dean shakes his head, marveling again at just how weird the dog is. He makes his way across the yard and knocks on the back door, as requested. Thankfully, Cas answers this time.

“Dean! Come in out of the cold.” He leads the way to the table. “Have you eaten yet?”

Dean looks over at Castiel. “You don't have to feed me every time you see me, you know.” And he winces at himself; that came out a little harsher than intended.

Cas looks taken aback. “Is that-?”

Dean’s stomach clenches. “Cas, I like it when you feed me. Love it, even. I just don't want you to think you _have_ to feed me to keep me around, or something.” He gathers his courage and steps over to the other man, cupping Cas’ face in his hands. “Cas, I like you. I like Gabe. The rest doesn't matter quite so much, is what I'm trying to say.” He kisses Cas softly, trying to relay the feeling behind his words.

When they part, Cas rests his forehead on Dean’s. “I honestly thought my shot with you, for us, had been blown this morning,” he says softly.

“Not gonna lie, it caught me off guard. But until you tell me otherwise, I’m stickin’ around.”

Cas looks like he wants to say something, but apparently changes his mind. Instead, he has Dean sit down and serves homemade pot roast for both of them.

Dean’s a hundred percent sure that he makes pornographic sounds as he’s eating. He’s also a hundred percent sure that he doesn't care; it's that good.

Cas stops him from having thirds, much to Dean's irritation. He doesn't get to stew in his irritation for long, though. “I talked to George this afternoon, and the ice is ready for skating.”

“Yeah?”

Cas nods. “The town will be setting the official rink up tomorrow, but I was wondering if you wanted to go down there with me tonight?”

Dean’s pretty sure his heart is going to leap out of his chest. There is no way this isn't a date, ex-girlfriend be damned. Just to be sure, though, he asks. Cas’ answering grin tells him everything he needs to know. He also manages to find a pair of skates in Dean’s size in the attic. Cas thinks they were his father’s, but really has no idea where they came from.

While Cas is rooting around looking for his skates, Dean does the dishes, earning him another toe-curling kiss like this morning’s. Finally, though, they bundle up and head down to the lake.

Cas gives him a short history lesson of the town as they walk and lace up their skates. As Dean tightens his laces, apprehension rises sharply, and he swallows hard.

“Dean?”

He jolts and looks over at Cas. “Yeah?”

“We don't have to do this if you don't want to.

Ugh, can this man _be_ any more perfect? Dean shakes his head. “Naw. Just a little bit of nerves, never having done this and all. I’m kinda afraid of falling on my ass if I'm honest.”

“We all do, Dean. Come on, I’ll be here if you do, and I’ll help you get up.” He tugs at Dean’s hands and drags him to his feet. They gingerly make their way to the ice. Dean wobbles a little getting there, but they make it in one piece.

Being out on the ice is a whole different ball game, however. Dean feels a lot like Bambi as he slides out. Cas, the bastard, looks like he was born with skates on as he glides out and circles around Dean. He does, as he expected, end up on his ass more often than not, but by the time they decide to pack it in for the night, his sides hurt from laughing, his face from smiling, and his heart just about entirely belongs to the quirky, dark-haired teacher in River’s Crossing.

The next few days see Gabe and Dean left to their own devices since Cas’ family descended on him and Meg.

Dean also learns just how much Claire despises Meg since she’s not shy about sharing her opinions on the matter. Loudly.

“I just don't get what Uncle Castiel ever saw in that harpy,” she says one morning, as Dean is eating breakfast at the cafe. “She’s a self-centered demon.” She huffs and plops down across from Dean.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Everything ok there, Blondie?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “Fine. Just tired of hearing Naomi talk about _Meg this_ and _Meg that_. Not to mention not-so-subtly hinting that Uncle Castiel could be doing ‘so much more’ with his doctorate than teaching high school.” She grumbles and crosses her arms over her chest, slouching down in the booth. “It’s like she _wants_ him to move away.”

“What do you think?”

“Honestly? I just want my only uncle to be happy, and he’s happy here. Mostly.”

They change the subject after that, but the conversation stays on Dean’s mind as he goes about his day. He finally shoves it into a box in the back of his mind—like he does other shit he doesn't like to dwell on—just to get some peace in his own brain.

He stops by Bobby’s shop, running into a grumbling Naomi. She doesn’t seem to notice him as she stalks by him, muttering about old coots who don’t have any Christmas spirit. Dean shakes his head, amused, and checks in with Bobby, who promptly shoos him right back out of the shop, saying he doesn't have anything for Dean to do. So, he and Gabe wander down the road until the blip of a siren makes Dean jump out of his skin. He glares over at Jody as she pulls up beside him. She’s still laughing as she rolls down the window.

“I’m sorry Dean, but that was just too good to resist. You looked lost in the clouds.” She chuckles again, wiping a tear from under her eye.

“Yeah yeah, yuck it up. Keep that up, and I won't consider your offer anymore.” He sticks his tongue out at her for good measure.

“Pish. I know you’re already more than just considering it, Winchester.” She looks at him, considering her words. “Something still has you on the fence, though.”

Damn that perceptive-as-hell woman. Dean pats Gabe’s head a few times before he answers. “Coupla things.” He shrugs. “Just keepin’ my options open, for now.”

“Uh-huh. Well, my door’s always open if you want to talk, at the station or home.” Her eyes are soft when Dean looks back up, and he nods.

“Thanks, Jody.”

Later that day, Dean gets a status report on Uurzua from the Major. After he gets off the phone with the Major, he calls his brother, who, of course, chews him out for not calling sooner.

“What are you, my mom?” Dean laughs when Sam stops to take a breath.

“No,” Sam grumbles at him. ”Just a guy who wants to see his big brother. That OK?”

And damn it, Dean can see the puppy eyes Sam has on, even without seeing his actual face. “Yeah, I know. Should only be a few more weeks. Plus, you have a phone; you coulda called me.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, unless you decide to stay there.” ~~F~~ ucking hell, what is it with the perceptive people in his life today?

“It’s an option, yeah. I actually already have a job offer here, as a dog handler.”

“No shit?” is Sam’s surprised reply. “I was mostly joking.”

“For real, Sam.”

“Huh. So you gonna take it?”

Dean hesitates. “I’m not sure yet.”

He tells Sam about the offer and Jody, explaining that there isn't actually a K9 unit here, yet. But Sam seems to be confident that if Dean wants to stay, Jody will make it happen.

“It’s just, sheriffs don’t talk out their asses, Dean. If Jody says she wants it for the town or even the surrounding areas, I will bet you any amount of donuts that she already has the plans to do it; she’s just been waiting for a handler to enact them.”

“That- that makes sense, actually,” Dean muses. “That’s not the only reason I’d want to stay, though.”

“Well, of course not, Dean. So who are they?”

Yeah, Dean’s a bit tired of the perceptive bastards in his life. He sighs. “I don’t really know if this is gonna go anywhere, but you remember me tellin’ you about the guest house I'm staying in?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the owner of said guest house.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not really? But-”

“Nuh-uh.” Dean hears rustling in the background as Sam continues. “No Dean, no buts. Do you like this guy?”

“Well, yeah. But his ex showed up a few days ago, and word around town is that she’s trying to get him to move to Chicago with her.”

A beat of silence. “Ah. So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t really know? I mean, I like the guy, but I don't want to get stuck here in a town where I don't know anyone if he does decide to get back together with his ex and move, you know?”

“Have you, oh, I don't know, _talked_ to him about it?”

Dean grimaces. “Not really.”

“Oh, my God,” Sam mutters. “Dean. _Talk to him_. If this is in any way serious, you should really consider this, you know? You deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll think about it, bitch.”

Sam doesn't take the bait. “Thanks, Dean. So,” he says, slyly. “When you gonna bring him home?”

“Sam…”

“I mean, I gotta make sure he’s good enough for my big brother.”

“Sam, I’m warning you-”

“Is he at least dreamy?”

Dean hangs up, Sam’s laughter ringing through the phone.

Dean does as he promised Sam; he thinks seriously about staying in River’s Crossing. The thing with Cas aside, it’s a cool place, somewhere he can see himself settling down. He’s already starting to make friends, Anna and Charlie specifically, and when you throw in the job offer and Cas, it all makes a pretty damn attractive package. With the added bonus that if he does end up staying here, he could even qualify to adopt Uurzua if he ever becomes available.

He just needs to see if Cas is on the same page before he goes making any real decisions.

With all this in mind, he decides to make dinner, shooting Cas a text to invite him over whenever he gets back from whatever it is he’s doing.

Cas’ return text tells him it will be a bit, so Dean decides to go all out with lasagna and salad. A quick trip to the market and an hour later, Dean’s got an honest-to-God salad in the fridge with dressing options to go with it. The lasagna is in the oven and the garlic bread is ready to be thrown in to heat whenever Cas gets here.

He busies himself tidying the cabin and doing stretches until the timer goes off. He texts Cas to let him know dinner is ready whenever he’s ready for it. He doesn't get an immediate answer, so he sets the oven to warm while he waits. At seven, he gives up and makes himself a plate. It’s good, at least, even if he’s now stuck with way too much food.

He’s just finishing washing dishes when someone knocks on the door, setting Gabe to barking.

“Chill out, furball.” He opens the door to see Cas, looking like he’s about ready to cry. “Oh, hey, Cas.”

“Dean, I'm so sorry about dinner. I-”

Dean shrugs, cutting him off. “It’s fine.” He turns away, going back to the kitchen and the dishes. “It’s in the fridge if you’re hungry. Help yourself.”

A hand on Dean’s shoulder stops him from submerging his hands in the soapy water. “It’s not OK, Dean. Will you look at me?” He turns to see Castiel’s earnest eyes on him. “I had every intention of being here, but my visit with my mother got a little… waylaid.”

Well, that doesn’t sound good. “What happened?”

“Can I still have that dinner? I know I’m late, but I always think better when I’ve had something to eat, and I haven't eaten since lunch and-”

Dean puts his hands on Cas’ shoulder, cutting off the flow of words and grounding him. “Hey. Calm down, ok? Sit down. I’ll reheat you a plate. Do you want some salad, too?”

Cas’ shoulders slump. “Thank you, Dean. And yes, salad sounds good.” He takes a seat as Dean gets everything out, dishing up the salad first and passing it and the dressing to Cas.

“What did you make, anyway?” Cas asks around a mouthful of rabbit food.

“Lasagna,” Dean says as he gets a helping out of the pan. He plunks it onto a plate, then sticks it in the microwave.

Cas groans. “I’m sorry I missed it fresh from the oven.” He polishes off the salad quickly as they wait for the signal of the microwave. He falls on the pasta as if he’s starving as soon as Dean sets it in front of him. Cas moans his appreciation, and Dean has to shift and adjust himself in his seat at the sound.

Dean’s gearing himself up to tell Cas his tentative plans and that he wants to give what’s been brewing between them a chance, but Cas beats him to the punch. He sets his fork down, clearing his throat.

“Meg offered me a job in Chicago. As Department Head of History. That’s why she’s here.”

Dean blinks. “Oh. That- that’s great.”

It’s not great, this is bad, there go all his half-baked plans, and-

“It’s a good opportunity, but I don't know if I'm going to take it.”

Dean's thoughts screech to a halt. “Really?” He might still have a shot at this, holy shit.

Cas pushes the plate away and leans on the table. “I mean, my whole family is here. I’ve lived here for the majority of my life. I like teaching here.” He looks at Dean. “And Chicago has a pit bull ban; I wouldn’t be able to take Gabe with me.”

That’s news to Dean. “Wait, really? A city can ban a whole breed of dog?”

Cas nods. “Honestly, it’s one of the biggest reasons I don’t want to go.” Gabe sets his chin down on Cas’ knee, and he scratches the dog’s ears. “He’s my family, just as much as my mother and Anna are.”

Dean looks at them, a soft smile on his face. “Yeah, I get you. Leaving Uuruza behind when I left the Marines is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a long time. And I only knew him for a short time.” He clears his throat and looks back at Cas. “So, what are you going to do?”

Cas bites his lip and sighs. “I’m going to think about it, I guess. It _is_ a good offer, and Mother’s been after me to ‘do more with my life’ since I came home to start teaching.”

Dean nods. Well, he doesn’t have any reason to say anything about his own offer right now, then. He’ll just have to wait it out and see what happens. “Well, you can talk to me anytime you need to. I know all about having to make decisions based on going to new places, having to pick new duty stations, and all that.”

Cas smiles. “Thank you, Dean. But right now, I need to thank you for this outstanding lasagna. It was wonderful!”

Dean grins and feels a blush spreading across his face. “Aw. Thanks, Cas.”

A sly look pastes itself on Cas’ face, and he stands. “Let me thank you properly for making dinner,” he murmurs as he leans down to Dean, then slots their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

Dean hums, gripping Cas’ hips and pushing his chair away from the table. Once he’s clear, he tugs Cas closer. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Cas straddles Dean’s legs and sits down on Dean’s lap, retaking possession of Dean’s lips. He drapes his arms over Dean’s shoulders, and Dean’s hands wander up Cas’ broad back to his hair. Cas arches into the caress, sighing when Dean starts playing with the strands on the back of his head.

“You really are like a big cat,” Dean says and smirks when Cas’ eyes close in bliss as he starts scratching his scalp.

Cas hums. “It’s been a long time since someone has touched me like this. I’m allowed.”

And yeah, Dean can't argue with that, not at all.


	5. Las Posadas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A nine-day festival, mostly celebrated in Mexico, Central America and parts of the United States of America. The holiday starts on the 16th of December and lasts until Christmas Eve on the 24th._

The next day, Cas gets Dean and Gabe to accompany him to the Winter Fest set up downtown. It’s a lot like the carnivals from Dean’s childhood, just without the rides. It’s set up right next to the pop-up market, with the center lane leading out to the lake where there’s a stand set up for skate rentals. Benches and tables are scattered around, and there are food and drink vendors set up around the edge of the ice.

“Holy crap,” Dean says upon seeing everything put together. “They really got all of this set up quick.”

Cas nods with a grin. “I think they have it down to a science now. We’ve had the same people coming back for years just to set up for this.”

“ _Dean_!”

Dean looks over in time to see Anna and Claire heading their way, waving like a couple of madwomen. “Hey, guys!”

Anna hugs her brother before punching Dean in the arm. “That’s for not coming in for your normal coffee two days in a row. I thought you had left us!”

Dean rubs his arm. For such a tiny thing, Anna packs a hell of a punch. “Sorry, Anna.”

She waves him off. “It’s fine now. So, what are you two up to today?”

“Dean and I are going to enjoy the fest today,” Cas replies. He hugs Claire, who tucks herself under his arm. “Would you two like to join us?”

Claire turns, pleading eyes on Anna. “Please, Mom? Can we?”

Anna smiles. “You got it, kiddo. Let’s show this town how Novaks enjoy a carnival!”

They proceed to do everything possible in the central area, from crappy shooting games (Dean wins Claire a stuffed platypus) to ring toss with Santa hats. They all buy different colored elf hats, tugging them down to cover their ears. Dean and Claire start whipping the ball on the ends of their hats at each other, Anna and Cas looking on with exasperated grins.

They check out the snowman contest that’s going on, careful not to get too close. (And not let Gabe too close, either, since he has an unhealthy obsession with jumping into snow piles.) There are some fantastic snow people (and creatures) being built, and Dean grins.

“Man, that is so freaking cool! I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“You should see Uncle Cain’s,” Claire says, tugging him away from the snow dude he’s looking at. “He almost always wins, and he never does the same thing twice.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks as he stumbles along behind her.

“He did what, a lumberjack last year?” Cas pipes up.

“Yep,” Claire replies, dodging a kid running by. “This year, he says he’s going to do a snow demon.”

They locate Cain and Colette, who are indeed hard at work on their creation. They make small talk for a few minutes until Anna decides she’s hungry, and they head to the food vendors to load up on carbs.

“Wow, you guys,” Dean says after inhaling his barbecue and Kentucky derby pie. “This is awesome.”

Cas grins brightly. “I’m so glad you are enjoying it, Dean.”

“Just wait until he gets you out doing the other stuff, Dean,” Anna laughs. “We’ve got snowball fights, snowboarding lessons, skiing, ice skeeball, the works. If you can think it up, we’ve probably got it or tried it at one point.”

Dean whistles. “Holy shit. You guys really _are_ a little famous for this shindig, huh?”

Claire nods. “Just a little. This week is just for us townies, though. Next week is when everyone else starts showing up, and it's going to be an absolute zoo.”

“At least we get a fireworks show on Christmas,” Cas points out.

The two girls nod, then Anna claps her hands. “OK, I’m beat. Kiddo, you want to head home with me or hang out here some more?”

Claire yawns. “Nah. It’s getting late. You want me to take Gabe home Uncle Cas?”

“Yes, please. I’m sure he’s hungry by now,” Cas says, patting Gabe’s head.

They say their farewells, then Cas leans over, laying his head on Dean’s shoulder. “You up for some ice skating tonight? The ice is so pretty lit up the way it is right now.”

Dean looks down at Cas, thinking back to the night they skated in the moonlight. He’s not sure anything can top that night, but- “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.”

Cas gets skates from the rental vendor for both of them, and they lace up. He helps Dean onto the ice and over to the fence that’s now set up around the “rink” area.

Dean points over to similar fenced areas. “What are those for?”

“Hockey, racing, stuff like that. The lake is big enough to let everyone have their own space.”

Dean lets out a breath and chuckles. “Thank God. I’m shaky enough without having to deal with all of that, too.”

The corners of Cas’ eyes crinkle with his smile, and he tugs Dean closer to him, pecking him on the lips. “Don’t worry, Dean, I won't let you fall.”

For the first time in a long time, Dean believes it. They glide around the oval, sticking close to the fence just in case. Dean’s having a pretty great time until-

“Cas!” Meg speeds over to them, crashing into Cas and drawing more than one dirty look. She grips his forearms and grins up at him. “Thanks, babe.”

Dean’s eyes narrow, and Cas looks like he’s bitten into a lemon. “Meg.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She lets go of Castiel, transferring her grip to the fence, forcing Dean to drop behind them. “God, it’s been forever since I was out on the ice.”

Cas throws an apologetic look over his shoulder to Dean. “Meg, I’m a little-”

“Can you show me how to do this again? I’m sure it won't take long for me to get my ice legs again.” She looks back at Dean. “You don’t mind, do you?”

And yeah, Dean kinda _does_ mind, but he grits his teeth. He looks down and shrugs.

“Great!” She retakes Cas’ arm and starts chattering away at him, reminding him of all the times they used to do this when they were dating. When they get back around to the opening in the fence, Dean silently skates out, wobbling onto the bank. He sees Naomi watching Cas and Meg with a smug smile on her face.

“Hey,” Charlie says, taking his arm and steadying him.

“Thanks.”

“No prob.” She helps him over to the vendor so he can swap out his footwear. “You looked like you were having a good time with Cas,” she says as he laces up his boots.

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs.

Charlie pats his arm. “I'm sorry, Dean.”

“It’s fine, Charlie. I’m beat, so I’m just going to head back and get some sleep. Let Cas know if he’s lookin’ for me?”

“Sure thing, Dean. Have a good night.”

Dean sighs. _That’s not looking likely right now_ , he thinks to himself as he walks to the guest house. Alone.

Cas didn’t come by that night, but he did, at least, send Dean a text apologizing for Meg’s behavior.

It was something.

Dean huffs at his blueberry muffin, thinking.

“What did that muffin do to you, old man?”

“’M not that old,” he grumbles at Claire. “Just thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” she says as she drops into a chair next to him. “Better call the bomb squad!” She grins at him.

He sticks his tongue out at her. “Very funny.”

“Seriously, though, what’s up, Dean?”

“Honestly? Just trying to decide what to do from here, I guess.” He drums his fingers on the table. “Jody offered me a position if I stay.”

“But?”

“I’m not so sure I'm gonna stay, yet.”

“Because of Uncle Cas?” Dean glances over at Claire, surprised. “What? I’m blonde, not blind. I wasn't _that_ tired last night. How’d that go, anyway?”

“Great, until Meg showed up.”

“She didn't.”

“Oh, she did. Made sure to rub my nose in all the history they have, too, while she was at it.”

“Oh my God, what a _cow_!”

Dean can't help himself and snorts a laugh. “Yeah, well. On top of that, Cas doesn't know if _he’s_ staying around, either, so that makes it even more difficult for me to make any decisions.”

Claire winces. “You heard about that, huh?”

“Told me himself. He told me he’d think about it, but with the ban on pit bulls, unless he finds a place outside the city, I don't think he’ll go.” He reaches down and scratches behind Gabe’s ears.

The bell jingles and draws Claire to the counter, so Dean finishes his coffee and muffin. He busses his table for the next person once he’s finished. He waves to Claire then ducks out of the cafe. As he meanders toward Bobby’s shop, he thinks.

Does he really want to stay here? Yeah, he kinda does, and it's not just Castiel, either. Claire, Anna, Charlie, and even Bobby have become important to him in the short time he’s been here. He wants Sam and Eileen to visit, to show them this little gem of an Ohio town. He wants to see how Gabriel acts in the rain and falling leaves, see if he’s as excited about that as he is in the snow.

He wants to see if he can actually fall in love.

He waves at Charlie as he enters the auto shop. She throws him a Vulcan salute as she continues to talk a bill over with a customer.

“Well, look what the mutt dragged in.” And if Dean’s morning wasn't crappy enough, well.

He turns to Meg, who is sitting in the chair next to the coffee maker. “Mornin’.”

She smirks at him over the magazine she’s holding. “Indeed, it is. And how was _your_ night last night?”

Well, at least Dean knows for sure she knows what she’s doing, now. Claire was right; Meg _is_ a she-demon. “It was fine. If you’ll excuse me, I need to chat with Bobby about my car.” She flips her hand at him, clearly dismissing him, and he turns away, escaping into the bay.

Bobby looks up from the car he’s bent over. “Oh. You ran into Meg.”

“Is it that obvious?” Dean asks as he heads to the hook where “his” coveralls are.

“Eh, you look like you bit into something extremely nasty. So yeah, it is.” He gestures to a truck. “If you want to get started on the Dodge, the service ticket is on the seat.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

They work in silence until Charlie comes into the bay, muttering darkly.

“Bobby, _please_ tell me you are just about done with Her Highness’ car.”

“Just putting the fluids in, now. Give me five minutes, and we can get her out of your hair.”

She growls under her breath and slumps on the rolling stool, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can deal with settling her bill.”

Dean wrinkles his nose, but Bobby chuckles. “That's fine, Charlie. I want her out of here, too.” Dean looks up, surprised.

“I thought Cas’ family loves Meg.”

Charlie gags. “No, Naomi is the only one who’s blinded by her sweet act. The rest of them know better. Including Cas.”

Dean furrows his eyebrows. “Then why does he put up with her crap?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, dude. Personally, I think it's some sort of blackmail.”

Bobby rolls his eyes. “Charlie, you gotta lay off the noir films. Not everyone has the stuff to dangle over people.”

“What? It could be!” She starts talking excitedly, and Bobby winks at Dean. Dean just shakes his head and goes back to work with a grin on his face.

As the day goes by, Dean keeps himself busy, even after getting kicked out of Bobby’s place. He helps out at the fair when asked, runs errands for Colette, and keeps a bunch of kids entertained by throwing snowballs for Gabe. It’s a good afternoon.

Except for the fact that the she-demon just keeps turning up like a bad penny. The only time she _doesn’t_ butt in is when he’s playing with the kids and Gabe, so he’ll count that as a win, fuck it.

His phone pings around three. He fishes it out, and it's a text from Claire informing him that she’s at the fair and asking him where he is. He tells her before tucking it safely away again and throwing another snowball for Gabe.

Right into Cas’ face.

“Oh shit, Cas! Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Dean starts laughing as Cas wipes the snow off his face.

“Hilarious, Dean.”

“I’m sorry! I just—your face!” He gasps, trying to get his breath back. He’s interrupted by a handful of snow being shoved down the back of his coat.

“Gah! Cold, cold! _Fuck_!” he rips the hem of his shirt out of his jeans and dance around, trying to get the snow out before it melts into his jeans. Gabe follows him around, snapping at the snow as it falls out.

“There, Uncle Cas. I got him back for you.”

“Thank you, Claire.”

“I hate you both. It was an accident!”

“Sure, sure. What are you doing out here on your own, anyway? I thought you were working with Bobby this morning?”

Dean packs another snowball for Gabe and shrugs. “I was. Until he kicked me out, anyway.”

She drops it, and they drift over to the fair as Gabe burns off some of his energy. They settle on a bench and people-watch, Claire snuggled between the two men, her arms twined in theirs.

But, par for the course for Dean, Meg shows up not five minutes later. Dean wonders if he’s been cursed. Or if she has a tracker on him.

“Oh, great,” Claire mutters. “The cow-demon is back.”

Dean just sighs.

“Well, hey there, Clarence. And Dan.”

“It’s Dean.”

She waves him off. “Whatever. Oh look, the bottle blonde is here, too!”

Claire glares at her, and Cas—Cas actually snaps back at her. “Back off, Meg. You know exactly who Dean is, and you know damn well Claire doesn’t color her hair. What do you want?”

Dean blinks and looks at Claire, who looks just as surprised as he feels.

“What? Can’t I hang out with my favorite person in this backwoods town?” She sits down next to Cas and snuggles up to his side, batting her eyelashes at him.

Cas scoots away from her, squishing Claire into Dean. “Meg, stop.”

She pouts at him. “What, change your mind already?”

Cas throws up his hands and extracts himself from the brunette. “Meg, we haven't dated in years! What has gotten into you?” he shouts.

She shrugs, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Can’t a girl come to her senses? The only reason we broke up is that I moved, and now that you’re going to be moving to Chicago—”

“Possibly. _Possibly_ moving to Chicago.”

“—then there’s no reason for us to be apart anymore.”

“Yes, there is, Meg! You and I broke up long before you moved. For numerous reasons, including your animosity towards Gabe! Just stop this!”

She huffs and storms off in a flurry of snow. Claire starts clapping.

“Good for you, Uncle Cas.”

Cas’ shoulders slump, and he sits down next to Dean, laying his head on Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you, Claire.”

Dean wraps an arm around him and tugs him into his side. “You ok, sweetheart?” he murmurs into Cas’ hair.

“I’m fine. I just don't particularly care for confrontation.”

“Alright. Well, why don't we go? You can stay with me; I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Thank you, Dean. Let’s stop and get something to eat first; that way, I don't have to go back to my own house until in the morning.”

“You got it.”

Claire waves them off, breaking away to join up with a group of her friends when they wave her over. The two men get the promised dinner, then head to the guest house.

Dean doesn't want to leave the night as it is, so he asks Cas if he wants to watch a movie. They snuggle up on the couch, Gabe sacked out on the floor at their feet, and watch the silliest movie Dean can find on Netflix.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says as the credits roll.

Dean shoulder checks him gently. “No problem, Cas.” A yawn sneaks up on him, and he smiles ruefully. “Time to hit the hay. It’s been a long day. Mind if I go get changed?”

“Not at all.”

Dean changes into his sleep pants and a tank top, then leaves a loose shirt, and a pair of his PT sweats out for Cas to use if he wants. He hollers at Cas to let him know that he’s going to monopolize the bathroom for a minute, but the bedroom is clear.

Dean does his business and opens the door as he’s brushing his teeth to see Cas standing there, hand raised to knock.

“Oh, sorry.”

Dean mutters through the foam, waving Cas to the sink and the brand new toothbrush sitting there. Cas smiles at him, and they end up brushing their teeth side-by-side.

Once his mouth is rinsed, Dean tells Cas he left a change of clothing for him on the bed, hugs him, and heads back to the living room. The couch is pulled out into a bed, a pillow and some blankets already piled up on it. He smiles at the thoughtfulness of Cas, setting all of this up for him. He flicks off the lights then crawls into the bed, snuggling down into the blankets. He can hear the faint sounds of Castiel getting ready for bed as he drifts off to sleep.

Dean snorts awake, nose twitching in the cold air. Why is he- oh yeah. His brain catches up with him, and he grins, remembering exactly why he’s in the living room. The air is colder in here now that the fire has gone out.

He stretches, shoulder popping, and looks at the ceiling. He mentally catalogs his food inventory and comes up woefully short on anything he can make for breakfast. He does have coffee though, so he gets up, putting the hide-a-bed away, and shuffles into the kitchen. He makes a beeline for the coffee maker, setting everything up so he can get some go-juice in him STAT.

The machine gurgles and hisses, sending the aroma of roasted beans floating through the kitchen. Dean’s just taken the first sip of his coffee when Cas stumbles into the room. He almost inhales the murky liquid as his brain short-circuits.

Cas’ hair is a complete _wreck_. He’s got sleep lines all over his right cheek, and _he’s wearing Dean’s god damned clothes._ The PTs are only hanging on to the man’s hip bones, and Dean has never been so grateful for gravity before this morning.

“Mornin’ sunshine. Coffee in the pot. Sugar and cream are over here.”

Cas squints at Dean, which should not be adorable, but it really is, before he shuffles over to him. He plants a chaste kiss on Dean’s lips. “Hmm. Yes, the sugar is definitely over here.” He then shuffles over to the coffee, pours a cup, then back to the bar. All Dean can do is watch him, shock and amusement running through him. Cas slumps over on a free stool, reaching for the coffee fixin’s.

Dean slides everything within reach, putting the spoon in the mug. “So, you always this non-verbal in the mornings? I thought it was just because Meg kept you up past your bedtime last time.”

Cas grunts as he adds the sugar and cream, stirring them in. He holds up a finger at Dean in the universal signal of “wait,” points at his cup, then proceeds to drain half the mug. Only then does he look at Dean again. “Good morning, Dean.”

Dean grins. “Mornin’. Get enough sleep there, grumpy bear?”

“I did, yes. It was nice to share the bed with Gabriel again.”

“I bet. I’m so glad he’s not a bed hog, by the way. I didn't realize that first night that he’s a bed-sleeper and was having flashbacks to when Sammy and I were kids.” The dog in question trots into the kitchen and shoves his head under Dean’s hand. “Gabe reminds me of how Zuzu would sleep on my cot with me.”

“Is that who’s collar I saw on the bedside table?”

“Yeah. Maybe one day I’ll get to adopt him. Take him home for real.”

Cas looks at him, curiosity written on his face. “You can do that?”

“Yeah, man. The military tries to adopt as many as they can to previous handlers. They deserve a good retirement, too, you know.”

Cas hums as he drains the rest of his coffee. “Do you have anything to eat here? I find I’m starting this morning.”

“Not for breakfast. Want to hit up Anna for something?”

“I think that’s an excellent idea. Why don’t you go on ahead? I’ll go home, shower and change, then meet you there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean leans over and kisses Cas on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Yes, Dean. See you in about thirty minutes.”

Dean whistles as he throws on his clothes and heads to Anna’s. The weather is beautiful, blue sky and bright sunshine making the snow glitter.

He waves at Anna when he enters the cafe, making his way to the counter. He orders his and Cas’ usual, then stakes out his regular table. He waits at the window, watching down the street for Cas. He catches sight of Castiel coming down the sidewalk and grins. He’s got everything planned, and he’s ready to tell Cas that if he wants to give them a real shot, that he’s prepared to stay.

But Meg steps out of the general store, waving Castiel down and pulling him to the side. Dean watches as they talk, Castiel’s face turning serious. But then, his heart drops into his stomach when Meg pulls Cas’ face down to hers and smashes them together in a kiss.

Dean watches for a few seconds, disbelieving. He thought- well. It doesn’t matter what he thought anymore. He sees the proof of Castiel’s decision right in front of him, and he needs to get out of here. Now.

He leaves the cafe, dashing across the street as quickly as possible to avoid being seen by either Castiel or Meg. His hands are shaking as he calls Bobby.

“Dean! What can I do for you? I wasn't expecting to hear from you today.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Can you do me a favor and give me a ride to the nearest bus station with service to Cincinnati?”

Dean hears the confusion coloring Bobby’s voice when he replies. “Sure, son, you know I can. But what about your Impala?”

“I’ll come back for her. I just- Bobby, I gotta get out of here. Can you come to Castiel’s place and get me?” Dean lets himself into the guest house and runs to his room, throwing his stuff in the duffle.

“Yeah, Dean, I can. Just sit tight. I’ll be there in a minute or two. Son, are you ok?”

Dean sniffles. “No. Can you just please get me out of here?” He hangs up, tossing his phone onto the bed. He finishes packing and lets Gabe out, then doubles back to scribble a note for Castiel, merely telling him that he understands and that he hopes Castiel will be happy in the future. He looks around to make sure that nothing has been left behind, then dashes out the door, tossing his bag in the backseat of Bobby’s Toyota.

He ignores Bobby’s look of concern, and the car is silent until they pull into a Greyhound station. Bobby puts the car in park and twists to look at Dean.

“Dean, what’s going on? You’re worrying me.”

Dean shakes his head. “Cas made his choice. I can’t stay there, Bobby.” He looks up at the older man. “Tell Jody I’m sorry.”

Bobby blows out a long breath. “Are you sure about this? That this is the right course of action?”

“I can't keep letting my heart get yanked around, Bobby.” He buries his face in his hands. Bobby stays quiet as Dean explains. “Years ago, when I was first in the Marines, I was with a woman who swore there was no one else but me.” He laughs bitterly. “Turns out my deployments were too much for her, cause when I came home on leave she was three months pregnant with some doctor’s kid. Had already informed base housing and my unit and left me with nothing.” He looks up at Bobby. “I can’t do this, Bobby. I just got out of the Marines with nothing to my name. I’ve got nowhere to live right now. I’m not going to—I _can’t_ do this.”

Bobby nods. “Alright. Call me when you get there, at least. Let me know you’re OK.”

Dean nods, patting his pockets for his phone. “Shit. I left it at the guest house.”

Bobby presses a business card in his hand. “Here. Call me, let me know. I’ll call you when your Baby is ready, alright?”

“Thank you.” Dean tumbles out of the car, grabs his bag, and doesn't look back.


	6. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _An annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ, observed primarily on December 25 as a religious and cultural celebration._

It’s been a week since a Greyhound and an Uber took Dean to Cincinnati and away from River’s Crossing. From Cas. He’s spent that week camped out in Sammy’s spare bedroom, both his brother and his sister-in-law letting him wallow in his misery.

Well, until today, anyway.

The door slams open, Eileen standing in the doorway with a water gun in her hand. Dean shoots up in bed and fumbles the hot pink water gun she tosses him. He looks up, confused.

Only to get squirted full-on in the face.

He splutters and falls backward onto the floor. He dropped his damn weapon, though, so he pokes his head over the side of the bed to see if he can find it and arm himself again.

His lovely sister-in-law nails him in the face again, then takes off down the hall, cackling like a banshee.

They end up chasing each other around the apartment for an hour. Dean has no idea how they get away with it, considering the amount of racket they are making, but eventually, they run out of energy and water, and they collapse on the couch, breathless.

Dean twists around so Eileen can read his lips. “What the hell, E?”

She grins and shrugs, lifting her hands so that she can sign along with speaking. “Got tired of you moping around, so I did something about it.” She smacks him in the chest with the back of her hand. “Just be glad it was me. Sam wanted to _talk_.”

Dean shudders. “No, thank you.”

“Exactly. So. Make me breakfast?”

Dean laughs, and damn, it feels good. “You got it, sis.”

He whips them up pancakes and bacon, and Eileen puts just as much food away as Dean does. His brother really does not deserve this woman, but he really hopes Sam never lets her go.

After breakfast, they decide to settle in on the couch and watch mindless TV, and they rock-paper-scissors it out and settle on _Dr. Sexy_. His replacement phone rings around eleven, and Dean taps Elieen’s shoulder to let her know to pause it. He answers it on the way back to the guest room.

“Hello?”

“Dean, it’s Bobby. Look, I know tomorrow’s Christmas, but your Baby is ready. Her parts came in this morning.”

“Holy crap, really?!”

“I wouldn't pull your leg over this, son; you know me better than that. You think you can make it today?”

“I- maybe? Let me call my brother and find out when he’ll be home. We can make a family trip out of it.” Dean’s lying through his teeth about the family trip bit, knowing full well he doesn't intend to stick around. But he doesn't want Eileen to have to drive back alone, even though he knows damn well she can do so just fine.

“Alright. Call me back, you hear?”

“You got it.” Dean hangs up and calls Sam.

“Dude, what?”

“Hey, when do you get off work today?”

“What? Normal time, I guess. What’s the fire?”

“I just got a call from Bobby. Baby’s ready for me.”

“Oh!” Dean hears things being shuffled around in the background. “In that case, I’m on my way home.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “Okaaaay.” He draws out the word, but Sam just hums and asks him to tell Eileen so they can be ready to go as soon as he gets there, then hangs up.

Dean mutters under his breath about weird-ass brothers as he makes his way into the living room. He gets Eileen’s attention and tells her the new plan for the day. She jumps off the couch, darting for the master bedroom.

His whole frikkin’ family is nuts. What the hell?

He goes back into his room and packs an overnight bag, just in case. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabs Uurzua’s collar. He stares down at it for a moment, the tag catching the light. He stuffs it into his bag and heads back out to the living room. They might as well watch the rest of the episode. It’ll take Sam twenty minutes to get there.

Sure enough, just as the episode is ending, Sam pulls up. He runs in, changes, and throws together his own weekend bag in less than five minutes. They’re on the road soon after that.

“You wanna tell me what this is all about, Sam? Why the hell are you more excited about me getting my car back than I am?”

Sam shrugs. “Mostly looking forward to a weekend off. This just gave me the perfect excuse to leave the office early, for once. Plus, even if you wanna high-tail it out of there, E and I want to check out this River’s Crossing. Their Winter Fest sounds badass, and they-”

“Have fireworks on Christmas,” they say in unison. Sam glances at him in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised.

“It sounds like fun, Dean. I’m not even asking you to stick around.”

Dean slumps back in the seat. “Alright.”

They listen to pop radio the whole two-plus hour drive—“Driver picks the music, Dean”—and Dean is beyond ready to get his baby and flee River’s Crossing as soon as he settles the bill with Bobby. He can’t help the lump in his throat when he sees the “Welcome to River’s Crossing” sign where he first met Gabe, though.

Dean gives directions to the shop, and they pull into a parking spot quickly. He pats his brother on the shoulder.

“Hey, you two want to come in and meet Charlie? She’s good people. I think you’d like her.”

Sam grins as he interprets for Eileen. When a smile lights up her face, they climb out together.

“Char—oof!” An angry redheaded pixie slams into him as soon as he gets in the door, hugging him tightly.

“You’re a jerk. You know that?”

Dean wraps his arms around her, moving them further into the reception area so Sam and Eileen can get out of the wind. “I know, Char. I’m sorry.”

She sniffles and pulls back, wiping her face. She then smacks Dean a few times. “Now that I’ve got that out of my system, Bobby wants you to look the car over.” She shoves Dean toward the bay. “Get in there.”

He pulls her in for another hug and kisses the top of her head. “I promise I won’t leave without saying goodbye this time.”

“You better not,” she mutters, then extracts herself and whirls on the other two. “Hi!” she says brightly. “I’m Charlie. Who might you two be?”

Sam waves him off, so Dean ducks into the bay. It’s not lit, so he flips on the overhead lights. Some very familiar barking accompanies the fluorescent lights.

Dean turns to the sound, eyes wide. “I—it can’t be.” A missile of fur hits him in the chest, and he and Uurzua go down in a heap. This time, he can’t hold the tears back as Uurzua wiggles in his arms, trying to lick him everywhere. A sob rips out of him, and he hugs the Malinois to his chest, burying his face in Zuzu’s fur. “Oh my God, you’re here, you’re actually _here_.” He doesn't understand, but right now, he also doesn't give a damn; Zuzu is here. His best friend is here, safe, if only for a moment.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s head snaps up. “Cas?”

Castiel comes around the passenger side of the Impala, a small smile on his face. “I see you got your Christmas present from Major Galloway.”

Dean’s still hanging on to Zuzu like he’s going to disappear. Zuzu crawls into Dean’s lap and plasters himself to his former handler. “What—how—I don’t understand?”

“I can help fill in the blanks,” Sam says from the door, Charlie and Eileen behind him. And fuck Dean’s life, because Charlie has her phone out and he’d put money on her recording all of this.

“So, Cas called me right after you left. You left your phone at his place, and he called me when he saw most of your stuff missing. You had a missed call from the Major and a text letting you know that Uurzua was being retired.”

“Dean, in the short amount of time you were here, I knew without a doubt that you missed Uurzua enough that it left a hole in your heart. I couldn’t let the Marines try to adopt him to someone else. So Sam, the Major, and I did all the paperwork, figured out all of the logistics.” Cas kneels next to Dean, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Dean, Uurzua’s yours. You never have to leave him ever again.”

“Why would you do this for me? Especially after choosing Meg?” Dean whispers, hugging Zuzu closer.

Cas sighs. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Dean. If it makes you feel any better, it was _not_ reciprocated. It earned her a brutal shove, a tirade, and some creative revenge from Gabe. She’d apparently left her suitcase open when she left the house that morning, and Gabe got into it. There was a trail of her clothing from the living room all the way to the front yard. I’m still finding her clothes buried in snow. You just didn't stick around to see it.”

Dean’s so confused now, but the hope is clawing its way up to his throat. “What does that mean, Cas?”

Cas cradles Dean’s face in his hands. “It means, you silly man, that I choose you. I always have. But I see now, after some help,” he nods behind Dean, “that I never made that clear to you, and Meg’s actions didn’t help. I’m staying here, Dean. I choose you and River’s Crossing.”

Dean hooks a hand around the back of Cas’ neck and yanks him in for a kiss. It only lasts for a second before Zuzu decides he wants in on it, but Dean doesn’t care.

“Do you mean it?” he asks, touching their foreheads together.

“Yes, Dean. Good things do happen, sometimes. And-” Cas’ eyes twinkle. “I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it.”

“Oh my god, you are such a dork.”

Cas helps him up from the concrete floor as his joints, knees especially, protest the movement.

“Where is Bobby, anyway? I know he had a hand in this.”

“You’re damn right I did,” Bobby says. Dean turns to see him leaning on the wall next to his office. “I didn't want to be here for the reunions if you catch my drift.”

Dean’s cheeks heat, and he ducks his head. “Thank you, Bobby.”

Bobby snaps a towel at him, making him yelp. “Did you even take a look at your girl?”

Dean turns his head and wouldn’t you look at that; she’s as good as new. He whistles in appreciation. “You done damn good, Bobby.”

The older man puffs up. “Of course, I did.”

Dean throws his head back and laughs.

There’s no bill to settle since Bobby adamantly refuses to take any money from Dean to pay for the repairs.

“Son, you worked for me for free. I think we’re about even. Now get! You’ve got a boy and a dog to reconnect with. Go on, git.” He chases Dean right out of the reception area into the parking lot, slamming the door closed behind him and locking it.

Dean grins, shaking his head. When he turns around, he sees Cas and Zuzu standing next to the Impala. “Man, that’s a pretty sight. It’s missing something, though.”

Cas grins. “Gabe is at home. He and Zuzu get along just fine, but I wanted this to be about you and Uurzua, and we both know how Gabe gets.”

“Boy, ain’t that the truth.” He wraps his arms around Castiel, tugging him to his chest. “Did you mean it?” he asks him quietly.

“I did. I’m not going anywhere, Dean. I’m so sorry that I made you think otherwise.”

They stand there until a stray bit of wind sneaks up the side of Dean’s coat, chilling his skin. “OK, as much as I’m loving hugging you, it’s fucking cold out here, and I have family that you need to meet. I know damn well that Sam is about to crawl out of his skin.” He looks around. “Where the hell did they go, anyway?”

“I sent them to my house. I figured that would be the best place to try to sit and talk, for everyone.”

Dean boops his nose. “And that is one of the reasons I like you so much.”

They climb into the Impala, Zuzu in the back, and Dean flexes his hands around the steering wheel. “Man, it’s good to be back in this car.”

“You do look outstanding in it,” Cas drawls. Dean winks at him and starts her up, her engine roaring.

The drive home is short. The front door is flung open, and Claire flies out, capturing Dean into a hug.

“Dean!”

He hugs her back just as tightly as she’s hugging him, until Anna fights her way in, too. He embraces both women to his chest, thankful that Cas’ family doesn't hate him for running away.

It is cold outside, though, so they disengage and move inside. Charlie and Eileen are sitting on the couch, talking about something that Dean can’t quite make out, and Sam is in the kitchen, getting everyone glasses of water. Eventually, everyone finds a seat after a few dining room chairs are dragged in.

“OK,” Charlie says, Sam translating for Eileen. “Sam and Eileen, this is Cas, Anna, and Claire. Anna is Cas’ sister and Claire is her adopted daughter. Everyone, this is Sam, Dean’s brother, and Eileen, his wife. She’s Deaf, so you’ll have to remember to look at her when you talk, k?”

They chat back and forth, getting to know each other, and Dean leans over to Cas. “Where’s the furball?”

“Oh!” He jumps up and runs to a room down the hallway, and then Gabe shoots down the hallway like a rocket. He skids to a stop when he sees Dean, then he launches himself at Dean, whining.

There’s a round of ‘aww’s from the room, but Dean pays no mind, making sure to pet Gabriel all along his wiggly body. Zuzu watches, tail wagging.

Gabe eventually gets the welcome he wanted from Dean and transfers his attention to everyone else in the room. When he sees how many there are, he darts behind the couch, out of sight.

“Let me put them outside,” Cas says, apologetically. “Gabriel still isn’t that great with people in his space, I’m sorry.”

He lets both dogs out into the yard that separates the guest house from the main, and Sam draws him into a conversation about abused animals and where he got Gabe. As they talk, Claire plops down on the couch next to Dean.

“So.”

“Hey, Blondie.”

“Hey yourself,” she says, nudging her shoulder into his. “So.”

“So… what?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “So, now what are you gonna do? I remember you were trying to decide what the future held in store for you not too long ago. Now you know what you can have, so what next?”

“Now?” He looks around the room. Gabe and Zuzu are out back playing with each other in the snow. His brother is hip-deep in some sort of law conversation with Cas, and the girls are chatting about Anna’s cafe. He smiles.

“Well, if you guys will have me, I’d like to stay,” he says, nudging her shoulder back.

She grins. “I think that can be arranged.”

Half an hour later, the doorbell rings. Cain (in a full Santa outfit) and Colette tumble in, Naomi and Bobby following after, arm in arm (which gets a raised eyebrow from Dean, but Bobby shoots him a glare, so Dean wisely keeps his trap shut). Cain is carrying something that smells divine, Colette has what looks like jugs of cider and eggnog, and Naomi and Bobby have bottles of liquor. Everyone cheers, introductions are made, the dogs are brought back inside, and an impromptu Christmas party is had right there in the middle of Castiel Novak’s house.

And Dean?

Dean couldn’t be happier.


	7. Glossary and Notes

**Glossary**

**91/68T:** Animal Care Specialist. Vet Tech. Whatever you want to call it. 91T was the MOS code when I was enlisted (I got out in 2006). After re-working the MOS’s, the whole medical class (the 91s) was changed to 68. I have no idea why, but there you go. I use both interchangeably because I was a 91T, whereas someone today is a 68T.

**AFB:** Air Force Base

**Alert:** This is the signal from a Military Working Dog that they have located something. Usually, the signal is for them to sit down.

**Barracks:** It’s a military apartment building, most of the time. Sometimes it’s an open room that’s full of bunk beds, but usually only in Basic Training.

**C130:** BIG ASS PLANE.

**Discharge:** The service member has been released from their obligation to serve.

**Dog Handler:** The human at the end of the leash. Probably not being listened to unless they have the Kong held hostage.

**EOD:** Explosive Ordnance Disposal. The bomb squad.

**IED:** Improvised Explosive Device. It’s a bomb made of shit that’s found laying around.

**Medics:** Medical personnel.

**MOS:** Military Occupational Specialty. This is the job that we do in the Army or Marines. Every Soldier (Army) or Marine has one from the minute we are enlisted. Every branch has its own way of setting these up, and not all branches have the same jobs. Fun fact—the Army is the only branch with Veterinary Services!

**MP:** Military Police.

**MWD:** Military Working Dog. For more information about what an MWD is and where they are trained, please visit the [341st Training Group’s webpage](https://www.37trw.af.mil/Units/37th-Training-Group/341st-Training-Squadron/). 

Out-processing: The process of either leaving a base or the service. It’s a pain in the ass, means a lot of paperwork and running around the base.

**PT:** Physical Training. Working out. HELL.

**PTs:** Workout clothes. Yes, we have a uniform for working out in the military, lol. Most of us will wear our PTs as lounge clothes, especially once we’ve been discharged. And it’s _hot_ to see your partner wearing something that you’ve sweated your ass off in, I promise.

**RPG:** Rocket Propelled Grenade.

**Tango:** Shorthand for 91T (68T). In the phonetic alphabet, T is Tango, and we usually just called ourselves that to make life easier for everyone. Whiskies and Romeos do it, too (68W-Combat Medic and 68R-Food Inspector, respectively). Think of it like this: instead of the COL sticking his head out the door and yelling for the vet techs, he can just yell out “TANGOS! Get over here!” Much easier.

**Tattoos:** MWD’s each have a unique identifier (usually one letter and three numbers) tattooed on the inside of their ear. This way if there are two dogs with the same name, you can make sure you have the right records!

**Veteran:** Someone who signed a blank check to the US government, gave everything to the military, and somehow, made it home. Hoorah, brothers and sisters.

**Notes**

**Uurzua (Er-zoo-uh):** His name is not spelled wrong! Double letters at the beginning of a Military Working Dog’s name indicates that they are a Puppy Program dog. These dogs are bred at Lackland AFB specifically for the military’s use. Uurzua was named after a good friend of mine, Joey Urzua, who passed away from brain cancer. We served together in Korea.

**Officer Dog Handlers:** I don’t know for sure if there are any officers in the Marines that are dog handlers, I’ve only ever worked with the Army and Air Force. The dog handlers in those two branches were all enlisted (non-officer) personnel. The original story has Dean’s character as an officer though, so I went with it. It’s fiction, fuck it.

**Vet Techs and rank:** We don’t give a shit about rank, not really. Don’t get me wrong, we respect the rank you have, but we work hand-in-hand with officers daily, not to mention a variety of enlisted ranks for the dog handlers. Rank doesn’t scare or intimidate us when we work with them all on a regular basis.

**MWD Adoption:** This really is a thing. Working dogs get adopted out to eligible persons who can handle them so they can retire and live out their life as just a dog. The way it’s depicted in this story, though, is so far from the truth it’s not even funny. That being said, meh. It’s a story. Suspend belief with me for a little bit. For more information about MWD Adoptions, please visit the [homepage for adoptions](https://www.37trw.af.mil/Units/37th-Training-Group/341st-Training-Squadron/Military-Working-Dog-Adoption-Program/). 


End file.
